i 

«  &  NTA  BARBARA  • , 


3rt> 


«    Ail583AtNn  3HJ 


a  vavgHvo  viNvs  « 


o  THE  ttS»ARY  or  e 


CD 


m 


ir> 


o    W1N80«WD  iO    «. 


0  me  uravERSirr 
8 


MS 


B 


»  SANTA  BARBAAA 


s 


45 


3R 


3 

o    AilS)l3AlNA  3ttt   •. 


»  ©f!  CAIUfORNIA    e 


U 


eO 


3^ 


»  JO  AVVMSn  3HI  9 


O  IHE  WflVESSttV 


«  SANTA  BARBARA 


e   THi  UNIVERSITY    o 


o  SANTA  BARBARA  » 


9   O^CAUFORNIA   e 


U 


eO 


s^ 


«  JO  MVWn  3Hi  •. 


«  wrrawa  VINVS 


g 


Sft 


ft  AUS)i3AiNn  am 


o    THE  ONIVERSITV    o 


e  THE  ItSRARV  or  a 


O  SANTA  BARBARA  <» 


o    VlNHOUTVa  iO    O 


o  vwnvB  vttws 


o  AusioAiNn  am 


O  V1IVOTV9  WiNWS  o 


71    ^Tl 


e  THE  UBRARY  OT  e 


lLft«-? 


O    THE  UMIVERSIT1' 


irniri 


o  to  Auvnan  am  • 


•v 


e   OF  CMIKMNIA    e 


I 


o  jO  Aavnan  3HI  «. 


5 

•  SANTA  BARBARA  « 


S=T3 


\ 


I 

g 

3 


Ati^SSAINn  3HJi   ® 


\ 


/ 


ir 


/ 


WlNBOill»3  iO    »„ 


O  we  UBRAAV  or  9 

2 


CD 


iflS 


n 


A    VINSO^IV)  lO    O 


e  WJVB.. 


O  i«0  »„ 


"feg 


a  SANTA  BARBARA  « 


t 


3 


UO 


«  40  ABWian  3IU  o 


1 


5* 


B 


«  &  NTA  BARBARA  « . 


O   Of  CAUfOBNlA    a 

IS 


f  _ij5ri  s 


9  WtVm  V1NV8  o 


O  THBlOSAKVOr  e 


'aIF^i        ii.^ii-ii 


I 


i: 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  BARBARA 


A  ROMANCE  OF  TWO  WORLDS. 


PROLOGUE. 


We  live  in  an  age  of  universal  inquiry,  ergo  of  nniversal 
scepticism.  The  prophecies  of  the  poet,  the  dreams  of  the 
])hilosopher  and  scientist,  are  being  daily  realized — things 
formerly  considered  mere  fairy-tales  have  become  facts — yet, 
in  spite  of  the  marvels  of  learning  and  science  that  are  hourly 
accomplished  among  us,  the  attitude  of  mankind  is  one  of 
disbelief.  '"There  is  no  God!"  cries  one  theorist;  "or  if  there 
be  one,  I  can  obtain  no  proof  of  His  existence!"  "There  is  no 
Creator!"  exclaims  another.  "The  Universe  is  simply  a  rush- 
ing together  of  atoms."  "There  can  be  no  Immortality,"  as- 
serts a  third.  "We  are  but  dust,  and  to  dust  we  shall  return." 
"What  is  called  by  idealists  the  Soul,"  argues  another,  "is 
simply  the  vital  principle  composed  of  heat  and  air,  which 
escapes  from  the  body  at  death,  and  mingles  again  with  its 
native  element.  A  candle  when  lit  emits  flame;  blow  out  the 
light,  the  flame  vanishes — where?  Would  it  not  be  madness 
to  assert  the  flame  immortal?  Yet  the  soul,  or  vital  principle 
of  human  existence,  is  no  more  than  the  flame  of  a  candle." 

If  you  propound  to  these  theorists  the  eternal  question  why? 
— why  is  the  world  in  existence?  why  is  there  a  universe?  why 
do  we  live?  why  do  we  think  and  plan?  why  do  we  perish  at 


6  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

the  last? — their  grandiose  reply  is,  "Because  of  the  Law  of 
Universal  Necessity."  They  cannot  explain  this  mysterious 
Law  to  themselves,  nor  can  they  probe  deep  enough  to  find 
the  answer  to  a  still  more  tremendous  why — namely,  Why,  is 
there  a  Law  of  Universal  Necessity? — but  they  are  satisfied 
with  the  result  of  their  reasonings,  if  not  wholly,  yet  in  part, 
and  seldom  try  to  search  beyond  that  great  vague  vast  Neces- 
sity, lest  their  finite  brains  should  reel  into  madness  worse 
than  death.  Eecognizing,  therefore,  that  in  this  cultivated 
age  a  wall  of  scepticism  and  cynicism  is  gradually  being  built 
up  by  intellectual  thinkers  of  every  nation  against  all  that 
treats  of  the  Supernatural  and  Unseen,  I  am  aware  that  my 
narration  of  the  events  I  have  recently  experienced  will  be 
read  with  incredulity.  At  a  time  when  the  great  empire  of 
the  Christian  Eeligion  is  being  assailed,  or  politely  ignored 
by  governments  and  public  speakers  and  teachers,  I  realize  to 
the  fullest  extent  how  daring  is  any  attempt  to  prove,  even  by 
a  plain  history  of  strange  occurrences  happening  to  one's  self, 
llie  actual  existence  of  the  Supernatural  around  us;  and  the 
absolute  certainty  of  a  future  state  of  being,  after  the  passage 
through  that  brief  soul-torpor  in  which  the  body  perishes, 
known  to  us  as  Death. 

In  the  present  narration,  which  I  have  purposely  called 
a  "romance,"  I  do  not  expect  to  be  believed,  as  I  can  only 
relate  what  I  myself  have  experienced.  I  know  that  men  and 
women  of  to-day  must  have  proofs,  or  what  they  are  willing 
to  accept  as  proofs,  before  they  will  credit  anything  that  pur- 
]:)orts  to  be  of  a  spiritual  tendency; — something  startling — 
some  miracle  of  a  stupendous  nature,  such  as  according  to 
prophecy  they  are  all  unfit  to  receive.  Few  will  admit  the 
subtle  influence  and  incontestable,  though  mysterious,  author- 
ity exercised  upon  their  lives  by  higher  intelligences  than 
their  own — intelligences  unseen,  unknown,  but  felt.  Yes! 
felt  by  the  most  careless,  the  most  cynical;  in  the  uncom- 
fortable prescience  of  danger,  the  inner  forebodings  of  guilt 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  7 

— the  moral  and  mental  torture  endured  by  those  who  fight  a 
protracted  battle  to  gain  the  hardly-won  victory  in  themselves 
of  right  over  wrong — in  the  thousand  and  one  sudden  appeals 
made  without  warning  to  that  compass  of  a  man's  life.  Con- 
science— and  in  those  brilliant  and  startling  impulses  of  gen- 
erosity, bravery,  and  self-sacrifice  which  carry  us  on,  heedless 
of  consequences,  to  the  performance  of  great  and  noble  deeds, 
whose  fame  makes  the  whole  world  one  resounding  echo  of 
glor}' — deeds  that  we  wonder  at  ourselves  even  in  the  per- 
formance of  them — acts  of  heroism  in  which  mere  life  goes  for 
nothing,  and  the  Soul  for  a  brief  space  is  pre-eminent,  obeying 
Ijlindly  the  guiding  influence  of  a  something  akin  to  itself, 
yet  higher  in  the  realms  of  Thought. 

There  are  no  proofs  as  to  why  such  things  should  be;  but 
that  they  are,  is  indubitable.  The  miracles  enacted  now  are 
silent  ones,  and  are  woi-ked  in  the  heart  and  mind  of  man 
alone.  Unbelief  is  nearly  supreme  in  the  world  to-day.  Were 
an  angel  to  descend  from  heaven  in  the  middle  of  a  great 
square,  the  crowd  would  think  he  got  himself  up  on  pulleys 
and  Anres,  and  would  tiT  to  discover  his  apparatus.  Were 
he,  in  wrath,  to  cast  destruction  upon  them,  and  with  fire 
blazing  from  his  wings,  slay  a  thousand  of  them  with  the 
mere  shaking  of  a  pinion,  those  who  were  left  alive  would 
either  say  that  a  tremendous  dynamite  explosion  had  occurred, 
or  that  the  square  was  built  on  an  extinct  volcano  which  had 
suddenly  broken  out  into  frightful  activity.  Anything  rather 
than  believe  in  angels — the  nineteenth  century  protests 
against  the  possibility  of  their  existence.  It  sees  no  miracles 
— it  pooh-poohs  the  very  enthusiasm  that  might  work  them. 

"Give  a  positive  sign,"  it  says;  "prove  clearly  that  what 
you  say  is  true,  and  I.  in  spite  of  my  Progress  and  Atom 
Theory,  will  believe."  The  answer  to  sucli  a  request  was 
spoken  eighteen  hundred  years  and  more  ago.  "A  faithless 
and  perverse  generation  asketh  for  a  sign,  and  no  sign  shall 
be  given  unto  them.'* 


8  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

Were  I  now  to  assert  that  a  sign  had  been  given  to  me — 
to  me,  as  one  of  the  thousands  who  demand  it — such  daring 
assurance  on  my  part  would  meet  "\nth  the  most  strenuous 
opposition  from  all  who  peruse  the  following  pages;  each  per- 
son who  reads  having  his  own  ideas  on  all  subjects,  and 
naturally  considering  them  to  be  the  best  if  not  the  only  ideas 
worth  anything.  Therefore  I  wish  it  to  be  plainly  understood 
that  in  this  book  I  personally  advocate  no  new  theory  of 
either  religion  or  philosophy;  nor  do  I  hold  mysel'f  answer- 
able for  the  opinions  expressed  by  any  of  my  characters.  My 
aim  throughout  is  to  let  facts  speak  for  themselves.  If  they 
seem  strange,  unreal,  even  impossible,  I  can  only  say  that  the 
things  of  the  invisible  world  must  always  appear  so  to  those 
whose  thoughts  and  desires  are  centered  on  this  life  only. 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AN  ARTIST'S  STUDIO. 

In  the  \Adnter  of  188 — ,  I  was  afflicted  by  a  series  of  nervous 
ailments,  brought  on  by  overwork  and  overworry.  Chief 
among  these  was  a  protracted  and  terrible  insomnia,  accom- 
panied by  the  utmost  depression  of  spirits  and  anxiety  of 
mind.  I  became  filled  with  the  gloomiest  anticipations  of  evil; 
and  my  system,  was  strung  up  by  slow  degrees  to  such  a  high 
tension  of  physical  and  mental  excitement,  that  the  quietest 
and  most  soothing  of  friendly  voices  had  no  other  effect  upon 
me  than  to  jar  and  irritate.  Work  was  impossible;  music,  my 
one  passion,  intolerable;  books  became  wearisome  to  my 
sight;  and  even  a  short  Avalk  in  the  open  air  brought  with  it 
such  lassitude  and  exhaustion,  that  I  soon  grew  to  dislike  the 
very  thought  of  moving  out  of  doors.  In  such  a  condition  of 
health,  medical  aid  became  necessary;  and  a  skilful  and  amia- 
ble physician.  Dr.  E ,  of  great  repute  in  nervous  ailments, 

attended  me  for  many  weeks,  with  but  slight  success.  He 
was  not  to  blame,  poor  man,  for  his  failure  to  effect  a  cure. 
He  had  only  one  way  of  treatment,  and  he  applied  it  to  all  his 
patients  with  more  or  less  happy  results.  Some  died,  some 
recovered;  it  was  a  lottery  on  which  my  medical  friend  staked 
his  reputation,  and  won.  The  patients  who  died  were  never 
heard  of  more — those  who  recovered  sang  the  praises  of  their 
physician  everywhere,  and  sent  him  gifts  of  silver  plate  and 
hampers  of  wine,  to  testify  their  gratitude.  His  popularity 
was  very  great;  his  skill  considered  marvelous;  and  his  in- 
ability to  do  me  any  good  arose,  I  must  perforce  imagine, 
out  of  some  defect  or  hidden  obstinacy  in  my  constitution, 
which  was  to  him  a  new  experience,  and  for  which  he  was 

unprepared.     Poor  Dr.  R !     How  many  bottles  of  your 

tastily  prepared  and  expensive  medicines  have  I  not  swallowed, 
in  blind  confidence  and  blinder  ignorance  of  the  offences  I 
thus  committed  against  all  the  principles  of  that  Nature 
within  me,  which,  if  left  to  itself,  always  heroically  struggles 
to  recover  its  own  proper  balance  and  etTect  its  own  cure;  but 
which,  if  subjected  to  the  experimental  tests  of  various  poi- 


10  A    ROMANCE    OF   .TWO    WORLDS. 

sons  or  drugs,  often  loses  strength  in  the  unnatural  contest 
and  sinks  exhausted,  perhaps  never  to  rise  with  actual  vigor 
again.  Baffled  in  liis  attempts  to  remedy  my  ailments,  Dr. 
11 at  last  resorted  to  the  usual  plan  adopted  by  all  physi- 
cians when  their  medicines  have  no  power.  He  recommended 
change  of  air  and  scene,  and  urged  my  leaving  London,  then 
dark  with  the  fogs  of  a  d-retiry  winter,  for  the  gaiety  and  sun- 
shine and  roses  of  the  Eiviera.  The  idea  was  not  unpleasant 
to  me,  and  I  determined  to  take  the  advice  proffered.  Hearing 
of  my  intention,  some  American  friends  of  mine,  Colonel  Ever- 
ard  and  his  charming  young  wife,  decided  to  accompany  me, 
sharing  witli  me  the  expenses  of  the  journey  and  hotel  accom- 
modation. We  left  London  all  together  on  a  damp  foggy 
evening,  when  the  cold  was  so  intense  that  it  seemed  to  bite 
the  flesh  like  the  sharp  teeth  of  an  animal,  and  after  two 
days'  rapid  Journey,  during  whicli  I  felt  my  spirits  gradually 
rising,  and  my  gloomy  forebodings  vanishing  slowly  one  by 

one,  we  arrived  at  Cannes,  and  put  up  at  the  Hotel  de  L . 

It  was  a  lovely  place,  and  most  beautifully  situated;  the  gar- 
den was  a  perfect  wilderness  of  roses  in  full  bloom,  and  an 
avenue  of  orange-trees  beginning  to  flower  cast  a  delicate 
fragrance  on  the  warm  delicious  air. 

Mrs.  Everard  was  delighted. 

"If  you  do  not  recover  your  health  her-e,"  she  said  half 
laughingly  to  me  on  the  second  morning  after  our  arrival,  '"l 
am  afraid  your  case  is  hopeless.  What  sunshine!  What  a 
balmy  wind!  It  is  enough  to  make  a  cripple  cast  away  his 
crutches  and  forget  he  was  ever  lame.    Don't  you  think  so?" 

I  smiled  in  answer,  but  inwardly  I  sighed.  Beautiful  as 
the  scenery,  the  air,  and  the  general  surroundings  were,  I 
could  not  disguise  from  m.yself  that  the  temporary  exhilara- 
tion of  my  feelings,  caused  by  the  novelty  and  excitement  of 
my  journey  to  Cannes,  was  slowly  but  surely  passing  away. 
The  terrible  apathy,  against  which  I  had  fought  for  so  many 
months,  was  again  creeping  over  me  with  its  eruel  and  resist- 
less force.  I  did  my  best  to  struggle  against  it;  I  walked,  I 
rode,  I  laughed  and  chatted  with  Mrs.  Everard  and  her  hus- 
band, and  forced  myself  into  sociability  with  some  of  the 
visitors  at  the  hotel,  who  were  disposed  to  show  us  friendly 
attention.  I  summoned  all  my  stock  of  will-power  to  beat  back 
the  insidious  physical  and  mental  misery  that  threatened  to 
sap  the  very  spring  of  my  life;  and  in  some  of  these  efforts  1 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  11 

partially  succeeded.  But  it  was  at  night  that  the  terrors  of  my 
condition  manifested  themselves.  Then  sleep  forsook  my  eyes; 
a  dull  throbbing  weight  of  pain  encircled  my  head  like  a  crown 
of  thornt;  nervous  terrors  shook  me  from  head  to  foot;  frag- 
ments of  my  own  musical  compositions  hummed  in  my  ears 
with  weai'ying  persistence — fragments  tliat  always  left  me  in 
a  state  of  distressed  conjecture;  for  I  never  could  remember 
how  they  ended,  and  I  puzzled  myself  vainly  over  crotchets 
and  quavers  that  never  would  consent  to  arrange  themselves 
in  any  sort  of  finale.  So  the  days  went  on;  for  Colonel  Ever- 
ard  and  his  wife,  those  days  were  full  of  merriment,  sight- 
seeing, and  enjoyment.  For  me,  though  outwardly  I  ap- 
peared to  sliare  in  the  universal  gaiety,  they  were  laden  with 
increasing  despair  and  wretchedness;  for  I  began  to  lose  hope 
of  ever  recovering  my  once  buoyant  health  and  strength,  and, 
what  was  even  worse,  I  seemed  to  have  utterly  parted  with  all 
working  ability.  I  was  young,  and  up  to  within  a  few  months 
life  liad  stretched  brightly  before  me.  with  the  prospect  of  a 
brilliant  career.  And  now  what  was  I?  A  wretched  invalid — 
a  burden  to  myself  and  to  others — a  broken  sjiar  flung  with 
other  fragments  of  shi])wrecked  lives  on  the  great  ocean  of 
Time,  there  to  be  whirled  away  and  forgotten.  But  a  rescue 
Avas  approaching;  a  rescue  sudden  and  marvelous,  of  which,  in 
my  wildest  fancies,  I  had  never  dreamed. 

Staying  in  the  same  hotel  with  us  was  a  young  Italian  artist, 
UaiTaello  Cellini  by  name.  His  pictures  w^ere  beginning  to 
attract  a  great  deal  of  notice,  both  in  Paris  and  Eome;  not 
only  for  their  faultless  drawing,  but  for  their  M^onderfully 
exquisite  coloring.  So  deep  and  warm  and  rich  were  the  hues 
lie  transferred  to  his  canvases,  tliat  others  of  his  art,  less  for- 
tunate in  the  management  of  the  palette,  declared  he  must 
have  invented  some  foreign  com])ound  whereby  he  was  en- 
abled to  deepen  and  brighten  his  colors  for  the  time  being; 
but  that  tlie  effect  was  only  temporary,  and  that  his  pictin-es, 
exposed  to  the  air  for  some  eight  or  ten  years,  would  fade  away 
rapidly,  leaving  only  the  traces  of  an  indistinct  blur.  Otliers, 
more  generous,  congratulated  him  on  having  discovered  the 
secrets  of  the  old  masters.  In  short,  he  was  admired,  con- 
demned, envied,  and  flattered,  all  in  a  breath;  while  he  him- 
self, being  of  singularly  serene  and  unruffled  disposition, 
worked  away  incessantly,  caring  little  or  nothing  for  the 
world's  praise  or  blame. 


12  A    ROMiANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

Cellini  had  a  pretty  suite  of  rooms  in  the  Hotel  de  L , 

and  my  friends  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Everard  fraternized  with 
him  very  warmly.  He  was  by  no  means  slow  to  respond  to. 
their  overtures  of  friendship,  and  so  it  happened  that  his 
studio  became  a  sort  of  lounge  for  us,  wiiere  we  would  meet 
to  have  tea,  to  chat,  to  look  at  the  pictures,  or  to  discuss  our 
plans  for  future  enjoyment.  These  visits  to  Cellini's  studio, 
strange  to  say,  had  a  remarkably  soothing  and  calming  effect 
upon  my  suffering  nerves.  The  lofty  and  elegant  room,  fur- 
nished with  that  "admired  disorder"  and  mixed  luxurious- 
ness  peculiar  to  artists,  with  its  heavily  drooping  velvet  cur- 
tains, its  glimpses  of  white  marble  busts  and  broken  columns, 
its  flash  and  fragrance  of  flowers  that  bloomed  in  a  tiny  con- 
servatory opening  out  from  the  studio  and  leading  to  the 
garden,  where  a  fountain  bubbled  melodiously — all  this 
pleased  me  and  gave  me  a  curious,  yet  most  welcome,  sense  of 
absolute  rest.  Cellini  himself  had  a  fascination  for  me,  for 
exactly  the  same  reason.  As  an  example  of  this,  I  remember 
escaping  from  Mrs.  Everard  on  one  occasion,  and  hurrying 
to  the  most  secluded  part  of  the  garden,  in  order  to  walk  up 
and  down  alone  in  an  endeavor  to  calm  an  attack  of  nervous 
agitation  which  had  suddenly  seized  me.  While  thus  pacing 
about  in  feverish  restlessness,  I  saw  Cellini  approaching,  his 
head  bent  as  if  in  thought,  and  his  hands  clasped  behind  his 
back.  As  he  drew  near  me,  he  raised  his  eyes — they  were 
clear  and  darkly  brilliant — he  regarded  me  steadfastly  with  a 
kindly  smile.  Then  lifting  his  hat  with  the  graceful  reverence 
peculiar  to  an  Italian,  he  passed  on,  saying  no  word.  But  the 
effect  of  his  momentary  presence  upon  me  was  remarkable — 
it  was  electric.  I  was  no  longer  agitated.  Calmed,  soothed 
and  almost  happy,  I  returned  to  Mrs.  Everard,  and  entered 
into  her  plans  for  the  day  with  so  much  alacrity  that  she  was 
surprised  and  delighted. 

"If  you  go  on  like  this,"  she  said,  "you  will  be  perfectly 
well  in  a  month." 

I  was  utterly  unable  to  account  for  the  remedial  influence 
Raffaello  Cellini's  presence  had  upon  me;  but  such  as  it  was  I 
could  not  but  be  grateful  for  the  respite  it  gave  me  from 
nervous  suffering,  and  my  now  daily  visits  to  the  artist's  studio 
were  a  pleasure  and  a  privilege  not  to  be  foregone.  Moreover, 
I  was  never  tired  of  looking  at  bis  pictures.  His  subjects  were 
all  original,  and  some  of  them  were  very  weird  and  fantastic. 


A   ROMANCE   OP   TWO   WORLDS.  13 

One  large  picture  particularly  attracted  me.  It  was  entitled 
"Lords  of  Our  Life  and  Death."  Surrounded  by  rolling- 
masses  of  cloud,  some  silver-crested,  some  shot  through  with 
red  flame,  was  depicted  the  World,  as  a  globe  half  in  light,  half 
in  shade.  Poised  above  it  was  a  great  Angel,  upon  whose 
calm  and  noble  face  rested  a  mingled  expression  of  deep  sor- 
row, yearning  pity,  and  infinite  regret.  Tears  seemed  to  glit- 
ter on  the  drooping  lashes  of  tliis  sweet  yet  stern  Spirit;  and 
in  his  strong  right  hand  he  held  a  drawn  sword — the  sword  of 
destruction — pointed  forever  downwards  to  the  fated  globe 
at  his  feet.  Beneath  this  Angel  and  the  world  he  dominated 
was  darkness — utter  illimitable  darkness.  But  above  him  the 
clouds  were  torn  asunder,  and  through  a  transparent  veil  of 
light  golden  mist,  a  face  of  surpassing  beauty  was  seen — a 
face  on  which  youth,  health;,  hope,  love,  and  ecstatic  joy  all 
shone  with  ineffable  radiance.  It  was  the  personification  of 
Life — not  life  as  we  know  it,  brief  and  full  of  care — but  Life 
Immortal  and  Love  Triumphant.  Often  and  often  I  found 
myself  standing  before  this  masterpiece  of  Cellini's  genius, 
gazing  at  it,  not  only  with  admiration,  but  with  a  sense  of 
actual  comfort.  One  afternoon,  while  resting  in  my  favorite 
low  chair  opposite  the  picture,  I  roused  myself  from  a  reverie, 
and  turning  to  the  artist,  who  was  showing  some  water-color 
sketches  to  Mrs.  Everard,  I  said  abruptly: 

"Did  you  imagine  that  face  of  the  Angel  of  Life,  Signer 
Cellini,  or  had  you  a  model  to  copy  from?" 

He  looked  at  me  and  smiled. 

"It  is  a  moderately  good  portrait  of  an  existing  original," 
he  said. 

"A  woman's  face  then,  I  suppose  ?  How  very  beautiful  she 
must  be!" 

"Actual  beauty  is  sexless,"  he  replied,  and  was  silent.  The 
expression  of  his  face  had  become  abstracted  and  dreamy,  and 
he  turned  over  the  sketches  for  Mrs.  Everard  with  an  air  which 
showed  his  thoughts  to  be  far  away  from  his  occupation. 

"And  the  Death  Angel?"  I  went  on.'  "Had  vou  a  model 
for  that  also?" 

This  time  a  look  of  relief,  almost  of  gladness,  passed  over 
his  features. 

"No  indeed,"  he  answered  with  ready  frankness;  "that  is 
entirely  my  o%vn  creation." 

I  was  about  to  compliment  him  on  the  grandeur  and  force 


14  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

of  his  poetical  fancy,  when  he  stopped  me  by  a  slight  gesture 
of  his  hand. 

"If  you  really  admire  the  picture/'  he  said,  "pray  do  not  say 
so.  If  it  is  in  truth  a  work  of  art,  let  it  speak  to  you  as  art ' 
only,  and  spare  the  poor  workman  who  has  called  it  into  ex- 
istence the  shame  of  having  to  confess  that  it  is  not  above 
human  praise.  The  only  true  criticism  of  high  art  is  silence — 
silence  as  grand  as  heaven  itself." 

He  spoke  with  energy,  and  his  dark  eyes  flashed.  Amy 
(Mrs.  Everard)  looked  at  him  curiously. 

"Sav  now!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  ringing  laugh,  "aren't 
you  a  little  bit  eccentric,  signer?  You  talk  like  a  long-haired 
prophet!  I  never  met  an  artist  before  who  couldn't  stand 
praise;  it  is  generally  a  matter  of  wonder  to  me  to  notice  how 
much  of  that  intoxicating  sweet  they  can  swallow  without  reel- 
ing. But  you're  an  exception,  I  must  admit.  I  congratulate 
you!" 

Cellini  bowed  gaily  in  response  to  the  half-friendly,  half- 
mocking  curtsey  she  gave  him,  and,  turning  to  me  again,  said: 

"T  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,  mademoiselle. '  Will  you  sit 
to  me  for  your  portrait?" 

"I!"  I  exclaimed,  with  astonishment.  "Signer  Cellini,  I 
cannot  imagine  why  you  should  wish  so  to  waste  your  valu- 
able time.  There  is  nothing  in  my  poor  physiognomy  worthv 
of  your  briefest  attention." 

"You  must  pardon  me,  mademoiselle,"  he  replied  gravety, 
"if  I  presume  to  differ  from  you.  I  am  exceedingly  anxious 
to  transfer  your  features  to  my  canvas.  I  am  aware  that  you 
are  not  in  strong  health,  and  that  your  face  has  not  that 
roundness  and  color  formerly  habitual  to  it.  But  I  am  not  an 
admirer  of  the  milkmaid  type  of  beauty.  Everywhere  I  seek 
for  intelligence,  for  thought,  for  inward  refinement — in  short, 
mademoiselle,  you  have  the  face  of  one  whom  the  inner  soul 
consumes,  and,  as  such,  may  I  plead  again  with  you  to  give  me 
a  little  of  your  spare  time?  You  will  not  regret  it,  I  assure 
you." 

These  last  words  were  uttered  in  a  lower  tone  and  with 
singular  impressiveness.  I  rose  from  my  seat  and  looked  at 
him  steadily;  he  returned  me  glance  for  glance.  A  strange 
thrill  ran  through  me,  followed  by  that  inexplicable  sensation 
of  absolute  calm  that  I  had  before  experienced.  I  smiled — I 
could  not  help  smilincf. 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO    WORLDS.  15 

"I  will  come  to-morrow/'  1  said. 

"A  thousand  thanks,  mademoiselle  I  Can  you  be  here  at 
noon?" 

I  looked  inquiringly  at  Amy,  who  clapped  her  hands  with 
delighted  enthusiasm. 

"Of  course!  Any  time  you  like,  signor.  We  will  arange  our 
excursions  so  that  they  shall  not  interfo-re  with  the  sittings. 
It  will  be  most  interesting  to  watch  the  picture  growing  day 
by  day.    What  will  you  call  it,  signor?    By  some  fancy  title?"' 

"It  will  depend  on  its  appearance  when  completed,"  he  re- 
plied, as  he  threw  open  the  doors  of  the  studio  and  bowed  us 
out  with  his  usual  ceremonious  politeness. 

"Au  revoir,  madame!  A  demain,  mademoiselle!"  and  the 
violet  velvet  curtains  of  the  portiere  fell  softly  behind  us  as 
we  made  our  exit. 

"Is  there  not  something  strange  about  that  young  man?" 
said  Mrs.  Everard,  as  we  walked  through  the  long  gallery  of 
the  Hotel  de  L— - —  back  to  our  own  rooms.  "Something 
fiendish  or  angelic,  or  a  little  of  both  qualities  mixed  up?" 

"I  think  he  is  what  people  term  peculiar,  when  they  fail  to 
understand  the  poetical  vagaries  of  genius,"  I  replied.  "He  is 
certainly  very  uncommon." 

"Well!"  continued  my  friend  meditatively,  as  she  contem- 
plated her  pretty  mignonne  face  and  graceful  figure  in  a  long 
mirror  placed  attractively  in  a  corner  of  the  ha^l  through 
which  we  were  passing;  "all  I  can  say  is  that  I  wouldn't  let 
him  paint  my  portrait  if  he  were  to  ask  ever  so!  I  should  be 
scared  to  death.  I  wonder  you,  being  so  nervous,  were  nut 
afraid  of  him." 

"I  thought  you  liked  him,"  I  said. 

"So  I  do.  So  does  my  husband.  He's  awfully  handsome 
and  clever,  and  all  that — but  his  conversation!  There  now, 
my  dear,  you  must  o\ni  he  is  slightly  queer.  Why,  who  but 
a  lunatic  would  sav  that  the  onlv  criticism  of  art  is  silence? 
Isn't  that  utter  rubbish?" 

"The  only  true  criticism,"  I  corrected  her  gently. 
"Well,  it's  all  the  same.  How  can  there  be  any  criticism 
at  all  in  silence?  According  to  his  idea  when  we  admire  auy- 
Ihing  very  much  we  ought  to  go  round  with  long  faces  and 
gags  on  our  mouths.  That  would  bo  entirely  ridiculous!  And 
what  was  that  dreadful  thing  he  said  to  vou?" 


16  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

"I  don't  quite  understand  you,"  I  answered;  "I  cannot  re- 
member his  saying  anything  di-eadful." 

"Oh,  1  have  it  now/'  continued  Amy  with  rapidity;  "it  was 
awful!  He  said  you  had  tlie  face  of  one  whom  tlie  soul  coii- 
sumes.  You  know  that  was  most  horribly  mystical!  And 
when  he  said  it  he  looked — ghastly !  What  did  he  mean  by  it, 
I  wonder?" 

I  made  no  answer;  but  I  thought  I  knew.  I  changed  the 
conversation  as  soon  as  possible,  and  my  volatile  American 
friend  was  soon  absorbed  in  a  discussion  on  dress  and  jewelry. 
That  night  was  a  blessed  one  for  me;  I  was  free  from  all 
suffering,  and  slept  as  calmly  as  a  child,  while  in  my  dreams 
the  face  of  Cellini's  "Angel  of  Life"  smiled  at  me,  and  seemed 
to  suggest  peace. 


CHAPTEE  II. 
THE   MYSTERIOUS    POTION. 

The  next  day,  punctually  at  noon,  according  to  my  promise, 
I  entered  the  studio.  I  was  alone,  for  Amy,  after  some  qualms 
of  conscience  respecting  chaperonage,  propriety,  and  Mrs. 
Grundy,  had  yielded  to  my  entreaties  and  gone  for  a  drive 
with  some  "friends.  In  spite  of  the  fears  she  began  to  entertain 
concerning  the  Mephistophelian  character  of  Eaffaello  Cellini, 
there  was  one  thing  of  which  both  she  and  I  felt  morally  cer- 
tain: namely,  that  no  truer  or  more  honorable  gentleman 
than  he  ever  walked  on  the  earth.  Under  his  protection  the 
loveliest  and  loneliest  woman  that  ever  lived  would  have  been 
perfectly  safe — as  safe  as  though  she  were  shut  up  like,  the 
princess  in  the  fairy-tale,  in  a  brazen  tower,  of  which  only  an 
undiscoverable  serpent  possessed  the  key.  When  I  arrived, 
the  rooms  were  deserted,  save  for  the  presence  of  a  magnificent 
Newfoundland  dog,  who,  as  I  entered,  rose,  and  shaking  his 
shaggy  body,  sat  down  before  me  and  offered  me  his  huge 
paw,  wagging  his  tail  in  the  most  friendly  manner  all  the 
while.  I  at  once  responded  to  his  cordial  greeting,  and  as  I 
stroked  his  noble  head,  I  wondered  where  the  animal  had 
come  from;  for  thoue-h  we  had  visited  Signor  Cellini's  studio 
every  day,  there  hacl  been  no  sic^n  or  mention  of  this  stately, 
brown-eyed,  four-footed  companion.    I  seated  myself,  and  the 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  1? 

dog  immediately  lay  down  at  my  feet,  every  now  and  thei\ 
looking  up  at  me  with  an  aifectionate  glance  and  a  renewed 
wagging  of  his  tail.  Glancing  round  the  well-known  room,  I 
noticed  that  the  picture  I  admired  so  much  was 
veiled  by  a  curtain  of  Oriental  stuft',  in  which  were  embroid- 
ered threads  of  gold  mingled  with  silk  of  various  brilliant 
hues.  On  the  working  easel  was  a  large  square  canvas,  already 
prepared,  as  I  supposed,  for  my  features  to  be  traced  thereon. 
It  was  an  exceedingly  warm  morning,  and  though  the  win- 
dows as  well  as  the  glass  doors  of  the  conservatory  were  wide 
open,  I  found  the  air  of  the  studio  very  oppressive.  I  per- 
ceived on  the  table  a  finely  wrought  decanter  of  Venetian 
glass,  in  which  clear  water  sparkled  temptingly.  Eising  from 
my  chair,  I  took  an  antique  silver  goblet  from  the  mantel- 
piece, filled  it  with  the  cool  fluid,  and  was  about  to  drink, 
when  the  cup  was  suddenly  snatched  from  my  hands,  and  the 
voice  of  Cellini,  changed  from  its  usual  softness  to  a  tone  both 
imperious  and  commanding,  startled  me. 

"Do  not  drink  that,"  he  said;  "you  must  not!  You  dare 
not!    I  forbid  you!" 

I  looked  up  at  him  in  mute  astonishment.  His  face  was  very 
pale,  and  liis  large  dark  eyes  shone  with  suppressed  excite- 
ment. Slowly  my  self-possession  returned  to  me,  and  I  said 
calmly: 

"You  forbid  me,  signer  ?  Surely  you  forget  yourself.  What 
harm  have  I  done  in  helping  myself  to  a  simple  glass  of  water 
in  your  studio  ?    You  are  not  usually  so  inhospitable." 

While  I  spoke  his  manner  changed,  the  color  returned  to 
his  face,  and  liis  eyes  softened — he  smiled. 

"Forgive  me,  mademoiselle,  for  my  brusquerie.  It  is  true  I 
forgot  mvself  for  a  moment.     But    you    were    in    danger, 

and " 

"In  danger!"  I  exclaimed  incredulously. 
"Yes,  mademoiselle.  This,"  and  he  lield  up  the  Venetian 
decanter  to  the  light,  "is  not  water  simply.  If  you  will  ob- 
serve it  now  with'  the  sunshine  beating  full  against  it,  I 
think  you  will  perceive  peculiarities  in  it  that  will  assure  you 
of  my  veracity." 

I  looked  as  he  bade  me,  and  saw,  to  my  surprise,  that  the 

fluid  was  never  actually  still  for  a  second.    A  sort  of  internal 

bubbling  seemed  to  work  in  its  center,  and  curious  specks  and 

lines  of  crimson  and'gold  flashed  through  it  from  time  to  time. 

2 


18  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked;  adding  with  a  half-smile,  "Are  you 
the  possessor  of  a  specimen  of  the  far-famed  Aqua  Tof ana  ?" 

Cellini  placed  the  decanter  carefully  on  a  shelf,  and  I 
noticed  that  he  chose  a  particular  spot  for  it,  where  the  rays 
of  the  sun  could  fall  perpendicularly  upon  the  vessel  con- 
taining it.    Then  turning  to  me,  he  rejjlied: 

"Aqua  Tofana,  mademoiselle,  is  a  deadly  poison,  known  to 
the  ancients  and  also  to  many  learned  chemists  of  our  day. 
It  is  a  clear  and  colorless  liquid,  but  it  is  absolutely  still — as 
still  as  a  stagnant  pool.  What  I  have  just  shown  you  is  not 
poison,  but  quite  the  reverse.  I  will  prove  this  to  you  at  once." 
And  taking  a  tiny  liqueur  glass  from  a  side  table,  he  filled  it 
Anth  the  strange  fluid  and  drank  it  off,  carefully  replacing 
the  stopper  in  the  decanter. 

"But,  Signor  Cellini,"  I  urged,  "if  it  is  so  harmless,  why  did 
you  forbid  my  tasting  it?  Why  did  you  say  there  was  danger 
for  me  when  I  was  about  to  drink  it  ?" 

"Because,  mademoiselle,  for  you  it  would  be  dangerous. 
Your  health  is  weak,  your  nerves  unstrung.  That  elixir  is  a 
powerful  vivifying  tonic,  acting  with  great  rapidity  on  the  en- 
tire system,  and  rushing  through  the  veins  with  the  swiftness 
of  electricity.  I  am  accustomed  to  it;  it  is  my  daily  medicine. 
But  I  was  brought  to  it  by  slow,  and  almost  imperceptible 
degrees.  A  single  teaspoonful  of  that  fluid,  mademoiselle,  ad- 
ministered to  anyone  not  prepared  to  receive  it,  would  be  in- 
stant death,  though  its  actual  use  is  to  vivify  and  strengthen 
human  life.  You  understand  now  why  I  said  you  were  in 
danger?" 

"I  understand,"  I  replied,  though  in  sober  truth  I  was 
mystified  and  puzzled. 

"And  you  forgive  my  seeming  rudeness?" 

"Oh,  certainly!  But  you  have  aroused  my  curiosity.  I 
should  like  to  know  more  about  this  strange  medicine  of 
yours."  " 

"You  shall  know  more  if  you  wish,"  said  Cellini,  his  usual 
equable  humor  and  good  spirits  now  quite  restored.  "You 
sliall  know  everything:  but  not  to-day.  We  have  too  little 
time.  I  have  not  yet  commenced  your  picture.  And  I  for- 
o-ot — you  were  thirsty,  and  T  was,  as  you  said,  inhospitable. 
You  must  permit  me  to  repair  my  fault." 

And  with  a  courteous  salute  he  left  the  room,  to  return  al- 
most immediately  with  a  tumbler  full  of  some  fragrant,  gold- 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO    WORLDS,  19 

en-colored  liquid,  in  which  lumps  of  ice  glittered  refreshingly. 
A  few  loose  rose-leaves  were  scattered  on  the  top  of  this 
dainty-looking  beverage. 

''You  may  enjoy  this  without  fear,"  said  he,  smiling;  "it 
will  do  you  good.  It  is  an  Eastern  wine,  unknown  to  trade, 
and  therefore  untampered  with.  I  see  you  are  looking  at 
the  rose-leaves  on  the  surface.  That  is  a  Persian  custom,  and 
I  think  a  pretty  one.  They  float  away  from  the  lips  in  the 
action  of  drinking,  and  therefore  they  are  no  obstacle." 

I  tasted  the  wine  and  found  it  delicious,  soft  and  mellow 
as  summer  moonlight.  While  I  sipped  it  the  big  Newfound- 
land, who  had  stretched  himself  in  a  couchant  posture  on 
the  hearth-rug  ever  since  Cellini  had  first  entered  the  room, 
rose  and  walked  majestically  to  my  side  and  rubbed  his  head 
caressingly  against  the  folds  of  my  dress. 

"Leo  has  made  friends  with  you,  I  see,"  said  Cellini.  "You 
should  take  that  as  a  great  compliment,  for  he  is  most  par- 
ticular in  his  choice  of  acquaintance,  and  most  steadfast  when 
he  has  once  made  up  his  mind.  He  has  more  decision  of 
character  than  many  a  statesman." 

"How  is  it  we  have  never  seen  him  before?"  I  inquired. 
"Y^ou  never  told  us  you  had  such  a  splendid  companion." 

"I  am  not  his  master,"  replied  the  artist.  "He  only  favors 
me  with  a  visit  occasionally.  Pie  arrived  from  Paris  last  night, 
and  came  straight  here,  sure  of  his  welcome.  He  does  not 
confide  his  plans  to  me,  but  I  suppose  he  will  return  to  his 
home  when  he  thinks  it  advisable.  He  knows  his  own  busi- 
ness best." 

I  laughed. 

"What  a  clever  dog!  Does  he  journey  on  foot,  or  does  ho 
take  the  train?" 

"I  believe  he  generally  patronizes  the  railway.  All  the 
officials  know  him,  and  he  gets  into  the  guard's  van  as  a  matter 
of  course.  Sometimes  he  will  alight  at  a  station  en  route,  and 
walk  the  rest  of  the  way.  But  if  he  is  lazily  inclined,  he  does 
not  stir  till  the  train  reaches  its  destination.  At  the  end  of 
every  six  months  or  so,  the  railway  authorities  send  the  bill 
of  Leo's  journeyings  in  to  his  master,  when  it  is  always  settled 
without  difficulty." 

"And  M'ho  is  his  master?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

Cellini's  face  grew  serious  and  absorbed,  and  his  eyes  were 
full  of  grave  contemplation  as  he  answered: 


20  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

"His  master,  mademoiselle,  is  my  master — one  who  among 
men,  is  supremely  intelligent;  among  teachers,  absolutely  un- 
selfish; among  thinkers,  purely  impersonal;  among  friends, 
inflexibly  faithful.  To  lum  I  owe  everything — even  life  itself. 
For  him  no  sacrifice,  no  extreme  devotion  would  be  too  great, 
could  I  hope  thereby  to  show  my  gratitude.  But  he  is  as  far 
above  human  thanks  or  human  rewards  as  the  sun  is  above  the 
sea.  Not  here,  not  now,  dare  I  say  to  him,  My  friend,  behold 
liow  much  I  love  thee!   such  language  would  be  all  too  poor 

and  unmeaning;    but  hereafter — who  knows? "  and  he 

broke  off  abruptly  with  a  half-sigh.  Then,  as  if  forcing  him- 
self to  change  the  tenor  of  his  thoughts,  he  continued  in  a  kind 
tone:  "But,  mademoiselle,  I  am  wasting  your  time,  and  am 
taking  no  advantage  of  the  favor  you  have  shown  me  by  your 
presence  to-day.  Will  you  seat  yourself  here?"  and  he  placed 
an  elaborately  carved  oaken  settee  in  one  corner  of  the  studio, 
opposite  his  own  easel.  "I  should  be  sorry  to  fatigue  you  at 
all,"  he  went  on;  "do  you  care  for  reading?" 

I  answered  eagerly  in  the  affirmative,  and  he  handed  me  a 
volume  bound  in  curiously  embossed  leather,  and  ornamented 
with  silver  clasps.  It  was  entitled  "Letters  of  a  Dead  Mu- 
sician." 

"You  will  find  clear  gems  of  thought,  passion,  and  feeling 
in  this  book,"  said  Cellini;  "and  being  a  musician  yourself, 
you  vdll  know  how  to  appreciate  them.  The  writer  was  one 
of  those  geniuses  whose  work  the  world  repays  with  ridicule 
and  contempt.     There  is  no  fate  more  enviable!" 

I  looked  at  the  artist  with  some  surprise  as  I  took  the  vol- 
ume he  recommended,  and  seated  myself  in  the  position  he  in- 
dicated; and  while  he  busied  himself  in  arranging  the  velvet 
curtains  behind  me  as  a  background,  I  said: 

"Do  you  really  consider  it  enviable,  Signor  Cellini,  to  re- 
ceive the  world's  ridicule  and  contempt?" 

"I  do  indeed,"  he  replied,  "since  it  is  certain  proof  tliat 
the  world  does  not  understand  you.  To  achieve  something 
that  is  above  human  comprehension,  that  is  greatness.  To 
have  the  serene  subhmity  of  the  God-man  Christ,  and  consent 
to  be  crucified  by  a  gibing  world  that  was  fated  to  be  after- 
wards civilized  and  dominated  by  His  teachings,  what  can  be 
more  glorious?  To  have  the  magnificent  versatility  of  a 
Shakespeare,  who  was  scarcely  recognized  in  his  own  day,  but 
whose  gifts  were  so  vast  and  various  that  the  silly  multitudes 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  21 

wrangle  over  his  very  identity  and  the  authenticity  of  his  plays 
to  this  hour — what  can  be  more  triumphant?  To  know  that 
one's  own  soul  can,  if  strengthened  and  encouraged  by  the 
force  of  will,  rise  to  a  supreme  altitude  of  power — is  not  that 
sufhcient  to  compensate  for  the  little  whining  cries  of  the  com- 
mon herd  of  men  and  women  who  have  forgotten  whether  they 
ever  had  a  spiritual  spark  in  them,  and  who,  straining  up  to 
see  the  light  of  genius  that  burns  too  fiercely  for  their  earth- 
dimmed  eyes,  exclaim:  'We  see  nothing,  therefore  there  can 
be  nothing.'  Ah,  mademoiselle,  the  knowledge  of  one's  own 
inner  Self-Existence  is  a  knowledge  surpassing  all  the  mar- 
vels of  art  and  science!" 

Cellini  spoke  with  enthusiasm,  and  his  countenance  seemed 
illumined  by  the  eloquence  that  warmed  his  speech.  I  listened 
with  a  sort  of  dreamy  satisfaction;  the  usual  sensation  of 
utter  rest  that  I  always  experienced  in  this  man's  presence  was 
upon  me,  and  I  watched  him  with  interest  as  he  drew  with 
quick  and  facile  touch  the  outline  of  my  features  on  his  can- 
vas. 

Gradually  he  became  more  and  more  absorbed  in  his  work; 
he  glanced  at  me  from  time  to  time,  but  did  not  speak,  and  his 
pencil  worked  rapidly,  I  turned  over  the  "Letters  of  a  Dead 
Musician"  with  some  curiosity.  Several  passages  struck  me 
as  being  remarkable  for  their  originality  and  depth  of  thought; 
but  what  particularly  impressed  me  as  I  read  on,  was  the  tone 
of  absolute  joy  and  contentment  that  seemed  to  light  up  every 
page.  There  were  no  wailings  over  disappointed  ambition, 
no  regrets  for  the  past,  no  complaints,  no  criticism,  no  word 
for  or  against  the  brothers  of  his  art;  everything  was  treated 
from  a  lofty  standpoint  of  splendid  equality,  save  when  the 
writer  spoke  of  himself,  and  then  he  became  the  humblest  of 
the  humble,  3^et  never  abject,  and  always  happy. 

''0  Music!"  he  wrote,  "Music,  thou  Sweetest  Spirit  of  all 
tliat  serve  God,  what  have  I  done  that  thou  shouldst  so  often 
visit  me?  It  is  not  well,  0  thou  Lofty  and  Divine  One,  that 
thou  shouldst  stoop  so  low  as  to  console  him  who  is  the  un- 
worthiest  of  all  thy  servants.  For  I  am  too  feeble  to  tell  the 
world  how  soft  is  the  sound  of  thy  rustling  pinions,  how  ten- 
der is  the  sighing  breath  of  thy  "lips,  how  beyond  all  things 
glorious  is  the  vibration  of  thy  lightest  whisper!  Eemain 
aloft,  thou  Choicest  Essence  of  the  Creator's  Voice,  remain  in 
that  pure  and  cloudless  ether,  where  alone  thou  art  fitted  to 


22  A   ROMANCE   Of   TWO   WORLDS. 

dwell.  ]\[y  touch  must  desecrate  thee,  my  voice  afTright 
thee.  Suffice  it  to  thy  servant,  0  Beloved,  to  dream  of  thee 
and  die!" 

Meeting  Cellini's  glance  as  I  finished  reading  these  lines, 
I  asked: 

"Did  you  know  the  author  of  this  book,  signer?"  . 

"1  knew  him  well,"  he  replied;  "he  was  one  of  the  gentlest 
souls  that  ever  dwelt  in  human  clay.  As  ethereal  in  his  music 
as  John  Keats  in  his  poetry,  he  was  one  of  those  "creatures 
born  of  dreams  and  rapture  that  rarely  visit  this  planet, 
Happy  fellow!    What  a  death  was  his!" 

"How  did  he  die?"  I  inquired. 

"He  was  playing  the  organ  in  one  of  the  great  churches 
of  Eome  on  the  day  of  the  Feast  of  the  Virgin,  A  choir  of 
jfinely  trained  voices  sang  to  his  accompaniment  his  own 
glorious  setting  of  the  Eegina  Coeli.  The  music  was  wonder- 
ful, startling,  triumphant — ever  rising  in  power  and  majesty 
to  a  magnificent  finale,  when  suddenly  a  slight  crash  was 
heard;  the  organ  ceased  abruptly,  the  singers  broke  off.  The 
musician  was  dead.  He  had  fallen  forward  on  the  keys  of  the 
instrument,  and  when  they  raised  him,  his  face  was  fairer  than 
the  face  of  any  sculptured  angel,  so  serene  was  its  expression, 
so  rapt  was  its  smile.  No  one  could  tell  exactly  the  cause  of 
his  death — he  had  ahvays  been  remarkably  strong  and  healthy. 
Everyone  said  it  was  heart-disease — it  is  the  usual  reason  as- 
signed by  medical  savants  for  these  sudden  departures  out  of 
the  world.  His  loss  was  regretted  by  all,  save  myself  and  one 
other  who  loved  him.  We  rejoiced,  and  still  do  rejoice,  at 
his  release," 

I  speculated  vaguely  on  the  meaning  of  these  last  words, 
but  I  felt  disinclined  to  ask  any  more  questions,  and  Cellini, 
probably  seeing  this,  worked  on  at  his  sketch  without  further 
(converse.  My  eyes  were  growing  heavy,  and  the  printed  words 
in  the  "Dead  Musician's  Letters"  danced  before  my  sight  like 
active  little  black  demons  with  thin  waving  arms  and  legs.  A 
curious  5^et  not  unpleasant  drowsiness  stole  over  me,  in  which 
I  heard  the  humming  of  the  bees  at  the  open  window,  the 
singing  of  the  birds,  and  the  voices  of  people  in  the  hotel  gar- 
dens, all  united  in  one  continuous  murmur  that  seemed  a 
long  way  off.  I  saw  the  sunshine  and  the  shadow — I  saw  the 
majestic  Leo  stretched  full  lengtli  near  the  easel,  and  the 
slight  supple  form  of  Eaffaello  Cellini  standing  out  in  bold 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  23 

outline  against  the  light;  yet  all  seemed  shifting  and  mingling 
strangely  into  a  sort  of  wide  radiance  in  which  there  was 
nothing  but  varying  tints  of  color.  And  could  it  have  been 
my  fancy,  or  did  I  actually  see  the  curtain  fall  gradually  away 
from  my  favorite  picture,  just  enough  for  the  face  of  the 
"Angel  of  Life"  to  be  seen  smiling  down  upon  me?  I  rubbed 
my  eyes  violently,  and  started  to  my  feet  at  the  sound  of  the 
artist's  voice. 

"'I  have  tried  your  patience  enough  for  to-day,"  he  said, 
and  his  words  sounded  muffled,  as  though  they  were  being 
s])oken  through  a  thick  wall.  "You  can  leave  me  now  if  you 
like." 

I  stood  before  him  mechanically,  still  holding  the  book  he 
had  lent  me  clasped  in  my  hand.  Irresolutely  I  raised  my 
eyes  towards  the  "Lords  of  our  Life  and  Death."  It  was 
closely  veiled.  I  had  then  experienced  an  optical  illusion.  I 
forced  myself  to  speak — to  smile — to  put  back  the  novel 
sensations  that  were  overwhelming  me. 

"I  think,"  I  said,  and  I  heard  myself  speak  as  though  I  were 
somebody  else  at  a  great  distance  off — "I  think,  Signor  Cellini, 
your  Eastern  wine  has  been  too  potent  for  me.  j\Iy  head  is 
quite  heavy,  and  I  feel  dazed." 

"It  is  mere  fatigue  and  the  heat  of  the  day,"  he  replied 
quietly.  "I  am  sure  you  are  not  too  dazed,  as  you  call  it,  to 
see  your  favorite  picture,  are  you?" 

I  trembled.  Was  not  that  picture  veiled?  I  looked — there 
was  no  curtain  at  all,  and  the  faces  of  the  two  Angels  shone 
out  of  the  canvas  with  intense  brilliancy!  Strange  to  say, 
I  felt  no  surprise  at  this  circumstance,  which,  had  it  occurred 
a  moment  previously,  would  have  unquestionably  astonished 
and  perhaps  alarmed  me.  The  mistiness  of  my  bfair  suddenly 
cleared;  I  saw  everything  plainly;  I  heard  distinctly;  and 
Avhen  I  spoke,  the  tone  of  my  voice  sounded  as  full  and  ring- 
ing as  it  had  previously  seemed  low  and  muffled.  I  gazed  stead- 
fastly at  the  painting,  and  replied,  half  smiling: 

"I  should  be  indeed  'far  gone,'  as  the  saying  is,  if  I  could 
not  see  that,  signor!  It  is  truly  your  masterpiece.  "Why  have 
you  never  exhibited  it?" 

"Can  you  ask  that?"  he  said  with  impressive  emphasis, 
at  the  same  time  drawing  nearer  and  fixing  upon  me  the 
penetrating  glance  of  his  dark  fathomless  eyes.  It  then 
seemed  to  me  that  some  great  inner  force  compelled  me  to 


24  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

answer  this  half-inquiry,  in  words  of  wliieh  I  had  taken  no 
previous  thought,  and  which,  as  I  uttered  them,  conveyed 
no  special  meaning  to  my  own  ears. 

"Of  course,"  I  said  slowly,  as  if  I  were  repeating  a  lesson, 
"you  would  not  so  betray  the  high  trust  committed  to  your 
charge." 

"Well  said,"  replied  Cellini;  "you  are  fatigued,  mademoi- 
selle. Au  revoir!  Till  to-morrow!"  And,  throwing  open  the 
door  of  his  studio,  he  stood  aside  for  me  to  jjass  out.  1  looked 
at  him  inquiringly. 

"Must  I  come  at  the  same  time  to-morrow?"  I  asked. 

"If  you  please." 

I  passed  my  hand  across  my  forehead  perplexedly.  I  felt 
I  had  something  else  to  say  before  I  left  him.  He  waited  pa- 
tiently, holding  back  with  one  hand  the  curtains  of  the 
portiere. 

"I  think  I  had  a  j)artiug  word  to  give  you,"  I  said  at  last, 
meeting  his  gaze  frankly;  "but  I  seem  to  have  forgotten  what 
it  was." 

Cellini  smiled  gravely. 

"Do  not  trouble  to  think  about  it,  mademoiselle.  I  am  un- 
worthy the  effort  on  your  part." 

A  flash  of  vivid  light  crossed  my  eyes  for  a  second,  and  I 
exclaimed  eagerly: 

"I  remember  now!    It  was  'Dieu  vous garde,^  signor!" 

He  bent  liis  head  reverentially. 

"Merci  mille  fois,  mademoiselle!  Dieu  vous  garde — vous 
aussi.     Au  revoir." 

And  clasping  my  hand  Avith  a  light  yet  friendly  pressure, 
he  closed  the  door  of  his  room  behind  me.  Once  alone  in  the 
passage,  the  sense  of  high  elation  and  contentment  that  had 
just  possessed  me  began  gradually  to  decrease.  I  had  not  be- 
come actually  dispirited,  but  a  languid  feeling  of  weariness  op- 
pressed me,  and  my  limbs  ached  as  though  I  had  walked  in- 
cessantly for  many  miles.  I  went  straight  to  vaj  own  room.  I 
consulted  my  watch;  it  was  half-past  one,  the  hour  at  wliich 
the  hotel  luncheon  was  usually  served.  Mrs  Everard  had  evi- 
dently not  returned  from  her  drive.  I  did  not  care  to  attend 
the  table  d'hote  alone;  besides,  I  had  no  inclination  to  eat.  I 
drew  down  the  window-blinds  to  shut  out  the  brilliancy  of  the 
beautiful  Southern  sunlight,  and  throwing  myself  on  my  bed 
I  determined  to  rest  quietly  till  Amy  came  back.     I  had 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  25 

brought  the  "Letters  of  a  Dead  ]\lLisician"  away  with  me  from 
Cellini's  studio,  and  I  began  to  read,  intending  to  keep  myself 
awake  by  this  means.  But  I  found  1  could  not  fix  my  atten- 
tion on  the  page,  nor  could  I  think  at  all  connectedly.  Little 
by  little  my  eyelids  closed;  the  book  dropped  from  my  nerve- 
less hand;  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  was  in  a  deep  and  tranquil 
slumber. 


CHAPTEE  III. 
THREE  VISIONS. 

Roses,  roses!  An  interminable  chain  of  these  royal  blos- 
soms, red  and  white,  wreathed  by  the  radiant  fingers  of  small 
rainbow-winged  creatures  as  airy  as  moonlight  mist,  as  deli- 
cate as  thistledown!  They  cluster  round  me  with  smiling 
faces  and  eager  eyes;  they  place  the  end  of  their  rose-garland  in 
my  hand,  and  whisper,  "Follow!"  Gladly  I  obey,  and  hasten 
onward.  Guiding  myself  by  the  fragrant  chain  I  hold,  I  pass 
through  a  labyrinth  of  trees,  whose  luxuriant  branches  quiver 
with  the  flight  and  song  of  birds.  Then  comes  a  sound  of 
waters;  the  riotous  rushing  of  a  torrent  unchecked,  that  leaps 
sheer  down  from  rocks  a  thousand  feet  high,  thundering  forth 
the  praise  of  its  own  beauty  as  it  tosses  in  the  air  triumphant 
crowns  of  silver  spray.  How  the  living  diamonds  within  it 
shift,  and  change,  and  sparkle!  Fain  would  I  linger  to  watch 
this  magnificence;  but  the  coil  of  roses  still  unwinds  before 
me,  and  the  fairy  voices  still  cry,  "Follow!"  I  press  on.  The 
trees  grow  thicker;  the  songs  of  the  birds  cease;  the  light 
around  me  grows  pale  and  subdued.  In  the  far  distance  I  see 
a  golden  crescent  that  seems  suspended  by  some  invisible 
thread  in  the  air.  Is  it  the  young  moon?  No;  for  as  I  gaze 
it  breaks  apart  into  a  thousand  points  of  vivid  light  like 
wandering  stars.  These  meet;  they  blaze  into  letters  of  fire. 
I  strain  my  dazzled  eyes  to  spell  out  their  meaning.  They 
form  one  word — Heliobas.  I  read  it.  I  utter  it  aloud.  The 
rose-chain  breaks  at  my  feet,  and  disappears.  The  fairy  voices 
die  away  on  my  ear.  There  is  utter  silence,  utter  darkness, — ■ 
save  where  that  one  Name  writes  itself  in  burning  gold  on  the 
blackness  of  the  heavens. 

The  interior  of  a  vast  cathedral  is  opened  before  my  gaze. 


2G  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

The  lofty  white  marble  columns  support  a  vaulted  roof  painted 
in  fresco,  from  which  are  suspended  a  thousand  lamps  that 
emit  a  mild  and  steady  effulgence.  The  great  altar  is  illumi- 
nated; the  priests,  in  glittering  raiment,  pace  slowly  to  and 
fro.  The  large  voice  of  the  organ,  murmuring  to  itself  awhile, 
breaks  forth  in  a  shout  of  melody;  and  a  boy's  clear,  sono- 
rous treble  tones  pierce  the  incense-laden  air.  ^'Ci^edo!" — and 
the  silver,  trumpet-like  notes  fall  from  the  immense  height  of 
the  building  like  a  bell  ringing  in  a  pure  atmosphere — "Credo 
in  unum  Dcum;  Fatrem  omnipotenhmi,  factorcm  cceli  et 
terrcB,  visib ilium  omnium  et  invisibiUum." 

The  cathedral  echoes  with  answering  voices;  and,  invol- 
untarily kneeling,  I  follow  the  words  of  the  grand  chant. 
I  hear  the  music  slacken;  the  notes  of  rejoicing  change 
to  a  sobbing  and  remorseful  wail;  the  organ  shudders  like  a 
forest  of  pines  in  a  tempest,  ' '  Crucifix^is  etiam  pro  nobis;  pas- 
stis  et  sepultus  est."  A  darkness  grows  up  around  me;  my 
senses  swim.  The  music  altogether  ceases;  but  a  brilliant 
radiance  streams  through  a  side-door  of  the  church,  and 
twenty  maidens,  clad  in  white  and  crowned  with  myrtle,  pac- 
ing two  by  two,  approach  me.  They  gaze  at  me  with  joyous 
eyes.  "Art  thou  also  one  of  us?"  they  murmur;  then  they 
pass  onward  to  the  altar,  where  again  the  lights  are  glimmer- 
ing. I  watch  them  with  eager  interest;  I  hear  them  uplift 
their  fresh  young  voices  in  prayer  and  praise.  One  of  them, 
whose  deep  blue  eyes  are  full  of  lustrous  tenderness,  leaves  her 
companions,  and  softly  approaches  me.  She  holds  a  pencil 
and  tablet  in  her  hand. 

"Write!"  she  says,  in  a  thrilling  Avhisper;  "and  write  quickly! 
for  whatsoever  thou  shalt  now  inscribe  is  the  clue  to  thy  des- 
tiny." 

I  obey  her  mechanically,  impelled  not  by  my  own  will,  but 
by  some  unknown  powerful  force  acting  within  and  around 
me.  I  trace  upon  the  tablet  one  word  only;  it  is  a  name 
that  startles  me  even  while  T  myself  write  it  down — Heliobas. 
Scarcely  have  I  written  it  when  a  thick  white  cloud  veils  the 
cathedral  from  my  sight;  the  fair  maiden  vanishes,  and  all  is 
again  still. 


T  am  listening  to  the  accents  of  a  grave  melodious  voice, 
which,  from  its  slow  and  measured  tones,  would  seem  to  be 


A   ROMANCE   Ol<'   TWO   WORLCS.  ^7 

ill  the  action  of  reading  or  reciting  aloud.  I  see  a  small  room 
sparely  furnished,  and  at  a  table  covered  with  books  and 
manuscripts  is  seated  a  man  of  noble  features  and  command- 
ing presence.  He  is  in  the  full  prime  of  life;  his  dark  hair  has 
no  thread  of  silver  to  mar  its  luxuriance;  his  face  is  un- 
wrinkled;  his  forehead  unfurrowed  by  care;  his  eyes,  deeply 
sunk  beneath  his  shelving  brows,  are  of  a  singularly  clear  and 
]ienetrating  blue,  with  an  absorbed  and  watchful  look  in  them, 
like  the  eyes  of  one  accustomed  to  gaze  far  out  at  sea.  His 
hand  rests  on  the  open  pages  of  a  massive  volume;  he  is  read- 
ing, and  his  expression  is  intent  and  earnest — as  if  he  were 
nttering  his  own  thoughts  aloud,  with  the  conviction  and 
force  of  an  orator  who  knows  the  truth  of  which  he  speaks: 

"The  Universe  is  upheld  solely  by  the  Law  of  Love.  A 
majestic  invisible  Protectorate  governs  the  winds,  the  tides, 
the  incoming  and  outgoing  of  the  seasons,  the  birth  of  the 
flowers,  the  growth  of  forests,  the  outpourings  of  the  sunlight, 
the  silent  ghttering  of  the  stars.  A  wide  illimitable  Benefi- 
cence embraces  all  creation.  A  vast  Eternal  Pity  exists  for  all 
sorrow,  all  sin.  He  who  first  swung  the  planets  in  the  air,  and 
bade  them  revolve  till  Time  shall  be  no  more — He,  the  Foun- 
tain-Head  of  Absolute  Perfection,  is  no  deaf,  blind,  capricious, 
or  remorseless  Being.  To  Him  the  death  of  the  smallest  sing- 
ing-bird is  as  great  or  as  little  as  the  death  of  a  world's  em- 
peror. For  Him  the  timeless  withering  of  an  innocent  flower 
is  as  pitiful  as  the  decay  of  a  mighty  nation.  An  infant's  first 
prayer  to  Him  is  heard  with  as  tender  a  patience  as  the  united 
petitions  of  thousands  of  worshippers.  For  in  everything  and 
around  everything,  from  the  sun  to  a  grain  of  sand,  He  hath 
a  portion,  small  or  great,  of  His  own  most  Perfect  Existence. 
Should  He  hate  His  Creation,  He  must  perforce  hate  himself; 
and  that  Love  should  hate  Love  is  an  impossibility.  There- 
fore He  loves  all  his  work;  and  as  Love,  to  be  perfect,  must 
contain  Pity,  Forgiveness,  and  Forbearance,  so  doth  He  pity, 
forgive  and  forbear.  Shall  a  mere  man  deny  himself  for  the 
sake  of  his  child  or  friend?  and  shall  the  Infinite  Love  refuse 
to  sacrifice  itself — yea,  even  to  as  immense  a  humility  as  its 
greatness  is  immeasurable?  Shall  we  deny  those  merciful  at- 
tributes to  God  which  we  acknowledge  in  His  creature,  Man? 
0  my  Soul,  rejoice  that  thou  hast  pierced  the  veil  of  the  Be- 
yond; that  thou  hast  seen  and  known  the  Truth!  that  to  thee 
is  made  clear  the  Eeasou  of  Life,  and  the  Kecompense  of 


SS  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

Death;  yet  while  rejoicing,  grieve  that  thou  art  not  fated  to 
draw  more  than  a  few  souls  to  the  comfort  thou  hast  thyself 
attained!"  • 

Fascinated  by  the  speaker's  voice  and  countenance  I  listen, 
straining  my  ears  to  catch  every  word  that  falls  from  his  lips. 
He  rises;  he  stands  erect;  he  stretches  out  his  hands  as  though 
in  solemn  entreaty. 

"Azul!"  he  exclaims.  "Messenger  of  my  fate;  thou  who  art 
a  guiding  spirit  of  the  elements,  thou  who  ridest  the  storm- 
cloud  and  sittest  throned  on  the  edge  of  the  lightning!  By 
that  electric  spark  within  me,  of  which  thou  art  the  Twin 
Flame,  I  ask  of  thee  to  send  me  this  one  more  poor  human 
soul;  let  me  change  its  unrestfulness  into  repose,  its  hesitation 
to  certainty,  its  weakness  to  strength,  its  weary  imprisonment 
to  the  light  of  liberty!    Azul!" 

His  voice  ceases,  his  extended  hands  fall  slowly,  and  grad- 
ually, gradually  he  turns  his  Avhole  figure  towards  me.  He 
faces  me — his  intense  eyes  burn  through  me — his  strange  yet 
tender  smile  absorlps  me.  Yet  I  am  full  of  unreasoning  terror; 
I  tremble — I  strive  to  turn  away  from  that  searching  and  mag- 
netic gaze.  His  deep,  melodious  tones  again  ring/ softly  on  the 
silence.    He  addresses  me. 

"Fearest  thou  me,  my  child?  Am  I  not  thy  friend?  Know- 
est  thou  not  the  name  of  Heliobas?" 

At  this  word  I  start  and  gasp  for  breath;  I  v.'ould  shriek, 
but  cannot,  for  a  heavy  hand  seems  to  close  my  mouth,  and 
an  immense  weight  presses  me  down.  I  struggle  violently 
with  this  unseen  Power — little  by  little  I  gain  the  advantage. 
One  effort  more!    I  win  the  victory — I  wake! 


"Sakes  alive!"  says  a  familiar  voice;  "you  have  had  a  spell 
of  sleep!  I  got  home  about  two,  nearly  starving,  and  I  found 
you  here  curled  up  'in  a  rosy  infant  slumber,'  as  the  song  says. 
So  I  hunted  up  the  Colonel  and  had  lunch,  for  it  seemed  a  sin 
to  disturb  you.  It's  just  struck  four.  Shall  we  have  some  tea 
up  here?" 

I  looked  at  Mrs.  Everard,  and  smiled  assent.  So  T  had  been 
sleeping  for  two  hours  and  a  half,  and  I  had  evidently  been 
dreaming  all  the  time;  but  my  dreams  had  been  as  vivid  as 
realities.    I  felt  still  rather  dro\Ysy,  but  I  was  thoroughly  rested 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  29 

and  in  a  state  of  delicious  tranquillit}'.  My  friend  rang  the 
bell  for  the  tea,  and  then  turned  round  and  surveyed  me  with 
a  sort  of  wonder. 

"What  have  you  done  to  yourself,  child?"  she  said  at  last, 
approaching  the  bed  where  1  lay,  and  staring  fixedly  at  nic. 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Why,  you  look  a  different  creature.  When  I  left  you  this 
morning  you  Avere  pale  and  haggard,  a  sort  of  die-away  delicate 
invalid;  now  your  eyes  are  bright;  and  your  cheeks  have  (juite 
a  lovely  color  in  them;  your  lips,  too,  are  the  right  tint.  But 
perhaps,"  and  here  she  looked  alarmed — "perhaps  you've  got 
the  fever?" 

"I  don't  think  so,"  I  said  amusedly,  and  I  stretched  out  my 
hand  for  her  to  feel. 

"No,  you  haven't,"  she  continued,  evidently  reassured; 
"your  palm  is  moist  and  cool,  and  your  pulse  is  regular.  Well, 
you  look  spry,  anyhow.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  made  up 
vour  mind  to  have  a  dance  to-nisht." 

"Dance?"  I  queried.    "What  dance,  and  where?" 

"Well,  Madame  Didier,  that  jolly  little  furbelowed  French- 
Avoman  with  whom  I  was  driving  just  now,  has  got  up  a  regu- 
lar party  to-night " 

"Hans  Breitmann  gib  a  barty?"  I  interposed,  with  a  mock 
solemn  air  of  inquiry. 

Amy  laughed. 

"Well,  yes  it  may  be  that  kind  of  thing,  for  all  I  know  to  the 
contrary.  Anyhow,  she's  hired  the  band  and  ordered  a  right- 
down  elegant  supper.  Half  the  folks  in  the  hotel  are  going, 
and  a  lot  of  outsiders  have  got  invitations.  She  asked  if  we 
couldn't  come — myself,  the  Colonel  and  you.  I  said  I  could 
answer  for  myself  and  the  Colonel,  but  not  for  you,  as  you  were 
an  invalid.  But  if  you  keep  on  looking  as  you  do  at  present, 
no  one  will  believe  that  there's  anything  the  matter  with  you. 
— Tea,  Alphonse!" 

This  to  a  polite  waiter,  who  was  our  special  attendant,  and 
who  just  then  knocked  at  the  door  to  know  "madame's"  or- 
ders. 

Utterly  disbelieving  what  my  friend  said  in  regard  to  my 
improved  appearance,  I  rose  from  the  bed  and  went  to  the 
dressing-table  to  look  in  the  mirror  and  judge  for  myself.  I 
almost  recoiled  from  my  own  reflection,  so  great  was  my  sur- 
prise.   The  heavy  marks  under  my  eyes,  the  lines  of  pain  that 


30  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS, 

liad  been  for  months  deepening  in  my  forehead,  the  plaintive 
droop  of  the  mouth  that  had  given  me  such  an  air  of  ill-health 
and  anxiety — all  were  gone  as  if  by  magic.  I  saw  a  rose-tinted 
complexion,  a  pair  of  laughing,  lustrous  eyes,  and,  altogether, 
such  a  happy,  mirthful  young  face  smiled  back  at  me,  that  I 
half  doubted  whether  it  was  indeed  myself  I  saw. 

"There  now!"  cried  Amy  in  triumph,  watching  me  as  I 
pushed  my  clustering  hair  from  my  brows,  and  examined  my- 
self more  intently.  ''Did  I  not  tell  you  so?  The  change  in 
you  is  marvelous!  I  know  what  it  is.  You  have  been  getting 
better  unconsciously  to  yourself  in  this  lovely  air  and  scene, 
and  the  long  afternoon  sleep  you've  just  had  has  completed  the 
cure." 

I  smiled  at  her  enthusiasm,  but  was  forced  to  admit  that  she 
was  right  as  far  as  my  actual  looks  went.  No  one  would  be- 
lieve that  I  was,  or  ever  had  been,  ill.  In  silence  I  loosened 
my  hair  and  began  to  brush  it  and  put  it  in  order  before  the 
mirror,  and  as  I  did  so  my  thoughts  were  very  busy.  I  remem- 
bered distinctly  all  that  had  happened  in  the  studio  of  Eaf- 
faello  Cellini,  and  still  more  distinctly  was  I  able  to  recall  every 
detail  of  the  three  dreams  that  had  visited  me  in  my  slumber. 
The  name,  too,  that  had  been  the  key-note  of  them  all  I  also 
remembered,  but  some  instinct  forbade  me  to  utter  it  aloud. 
Once  I  thought,  "Shall  I  take  a  pencil  and  write  it  down  lest 
I  forget  it?"  and  the  same  instinct  said  "No."  Amy's  voluble 
chatter  ran  on  like  the  sound  of  a  rippling  brook  all  the  time 
I  thus  meditated  over  the  occurrences  of  the  day. 

"Say,  child!"  she  exclaimed;  "will  you  go  to  the  dance?" 

"Certainly  I  will,  with  pleasure,"  I  answered,  and  indeed  I 
felt  as  if  I  should  thoroughly  enjoy  it. 

"Brava!  Tt  will  be  real  fun.  There  are  no  end  of  foreign 
titles  coming,  I  believe.  The  Colonel's  a  bit  grumpy  about 
it, — he  always  is  when  he  has  to  wear  his  dress  suit.  He  just 
hates  it.  That  man  hasn't  a  particle  of  vanity.  He  looks  hand- 
somer in  his  evening  clothes  than  in  anything  else,  and  yet 
he  doesn't  sec  it.  Bnt  tell  me,"  and  her  pretty  face  became 
serious  with  a  true  feminine  anxiety,  "whatever  will  you 
wear?    You've  brought  no  ball  fixings,  have  you?" 

T  finished  twisting  up  the  last  coil  of  my  hair,  and  turned 
and  kissed  her  afPectionately.  She  was  the  most  sweet-tem- 
pered and  generous  of  women,  and  she  would  have  placed  any 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS.  31 

one  of  her  elaborate  costumes  at  my  disposal  had  I  expressed 
the  least  desire  in  that  direction.    1  answered: 

"Xo,  dear;  1  certainly  have  no  regular  ball  'tixings/  for  J 
never  expected  to  dance  here,  or  anywhere  for  that  matter. 
I  did  not  bring  the  big  trunks  full  of  Parisian  toilettes  that 
you  indulge  in,  you  spoilt  ))ride!  Still  I  have  something  that 
may  do.    In  fact  it  will  have  to  do." 

"What  is  it?  Have  I  seen  it?  Do  show!"  and  her  curiosity 
was  unappeasable. 

The  discreet  Alphonse  tapped  at  the  door  again  just  at  this 
moment. 

^^Entrezr  I  answered;    and  our  tea,  prepared  with    the 

tempting  nicety  peculiar  to  the  Hotel  de  L ,  appeared. 

Alphonse  set  the  tray  down  with  his  usual  artistic  flourish, 
and  produced  a  small  note  from  his  vest-pocket. 

"For  mademoiselle,"  he  said,  with  a  bow;  and  as  he  handed 
it  to  me,  his  eyes  opened  wide  in  surprise.  He,  too,  perceived 
the  change  in  my  appearance.  But  he  was  dignity  itself,  and 
instantly  suppressed  his  astonishment  into  the  polite  impass- 
iveness  of  a  truly  accomplished  waiter,  and  gliding  from  the 
room  on  the  points  of  his  toes,  as  was  his  usual  custom,  he  dis- 
appeared.   The  note  was  from  Cellini,  and  ran  as  follows: 

"If  mademoiselle  will  be  so  good  as  to  refrain  from  choosing 
any  flowers  for  her  toilette  this  evening,  she  will  confer  a  favor 
on  her  humble  friend  and  servant, 

'•Raffaello  Cellini." 

I  liandcd  it  to  Amy,  who  was  evidently  burning  with  in- 
(^uisitiveness  to  know  its  contents. 

"Didn't  I  say  he  was  a  queer  young  man?"  she  exclaimed^ 
as  she  perused  the  missive  attentively.  "This  is  only  his  way 
of  saying  that  he  means  to  send  you  some  flowers  himself.  But 
Avhat  puzzles  me  is  to  think  how  he  could  possibly  know  you 
were  going  to  make  any  special  'toilette'  this  evening.  It  is 
really  very  mysterious  when  1  come  to  think  of  it,  for  Madame 
Didier  said  plainly  that  she  would  not  ask  Cellini  to  tlie  dance 
till  she  saw  him  at  the  table  d'hote  to-night." 

"Perhaps  Alphonse  has  told  him  all  al)Out  it,"  I  suggested. 

My  friend's  countenance  brightened. 

"Of  course!  That  is  it;  and  Mr.  ('elhni  takes  it  for  granted 
Ihat  a  gii'l  of  your  a!ie  would  not  be  likelv  to  refuse  a  daiu-e. 


32  A    ROMANCE    OP    TWO    WORLDS. 

Still  there  is  something  odd  about  it,  too.    By-the-bye,  I  forgot 
to  ask  you  how  the  picture  got  on?" 

"Oh,  very  well,  I  believe,"  1  replied  evasively.  "Signor 
Cellini  only  made  a  slight  outline  sketch  as  a  beginning." 

"And  was  it  like  you? — a  really  good  resemblance?" 

"I  really  did  not  examine  it  closely  enough  to  be  able  to 
judge." 

"What  a  demure  young  person  you  are!"  laughed  Mrs. 
Everard.  "ISTow,  I  should  have  rushed  straight  up  to  the 
easel  and  examined  every  line  of  what  he  vv^as  doing.  Yoa 
are  a  model  of  discretion,  really!  I  shan't  be  anxious  about 
leaving  you  alone  any  more.  But  about  your  dress  for  to- 
night.   Let  me  see-  it,  there's  a  good  girl." 

I  opened  my  trunk  and  took  out  a  robe  of  ivory-tinted 
crepe.  It  was  made  with  almost  severe  simplicity,  and  was 
unadorned,  save  by  a  soft  ruffle  of  old  Mechlin  lace  round 
the  neck  and  sleeves.     Amy  examined  it  critically. 

"Now,  you  would  have  looked  perfectly  ghastly  in  this 
last  night,  when  you  were  as  pale  and  hollow-eyed  as  a  sick 
nun;  but  to-night,"  and  she  raised  her  eyes  to  my  face,  "I 
believe  you  will  do.    Don't  you  want  the  bodice  cut  lower?" 

"No,  thanks!"  I  said,  smiling.  "I  will  leave  that  to  the 
portly  dowagers — they  will  expose  neck  enough  for  half-a- 
dozen  other  women." 

My  friend  laughed. 

"Do  as  you  like,"  she  returned;  "only  I  see  your  gown 
has  short  sleeves,  and  I  thought  you  might  like  a  square 
neck  instead  of  that  little  simple  Greek  round.  But  per- 
haps it's  better  as  it  is.  The  stufE  is  lovelv;  where  did  you 
get  it?" 

"At  one  of  the  London  emporiums  of  Eastern  art,"  I 
answered.     "My  dear,  your  tea  is  getting  cold." 

She  laid  the  dress  on  the  bed,  and  in  doing  so,, perceived 
the  antique-looking  book  with  the  silver  clasps  which  I  had 
left  there. 

"What's  this?"  she  asked,  turning  it  round  to  discover  its 
name.  "  'Letters  of  a  Dead  Musician!'  What  a  shivery  title! 
Is  it  morbid  reading?" 

"Not  at  all,"  I  replied,  as  I  leaned  comfortably  back  in 
an  easy-chair  and  sipped  my  tea.  "It  is  a  very  scholarly, 
poetical,  and  picturesque  work.  Signer  Cellini  lent  it  to  me; 
the  author  was  a  friend  of  his." 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  33 

Amy  looked  at  mc  with  a  kno\\'iug  and  half-serious  ex- 
IDressioii. 

"Say  now — take  care,  take  care!  Aren't  you  and  Cellini 
getting  to  be  rather  particular  friends — something  a  little 
beyond  the  Platonic,  eh?" 

This  notion  struck  me  as  so  absurd  that  I  laughed  heartily. 
Then,  without  pausing  for  one  instant  to  think  what  I  was 
saying,  I  answered  with  amazing  readiness  and  frankness, 
considering  that  I  really  knew  nothing  about  it: 

"Why,  my  dear,  Eaffaello  Cellini  is  betrothed,  and  he  is 
a  most  devoted  lover." 

A  moment  after  I  had  uttered  this  assertion  I  was  su]-- 
prised  at  myself.  What  authority  had  I  for  saying  that 
Cellini  was  betrothed?,  What  did  I  know  aboiit  it?  Con- 
fused, I  endeavored  to  find  some  means  of  retracting  this 
unfounded  and  rash  remark,  but  no  words  of  explanation 
would  come  to  my  lips  that  had  been  so  ready  and  primed 
to  deliver  what  might  be,  for  all  I  knew,  a  falsehood.  Amy 
did  not  perceive  my  embarrassment.  She  was  pleased  and 
interested  at  the  idea  of  Cellini's  being  in  love. 

"Eeally!"  she  exclaimed,  "it  makes  him  a  more  romantic 
character  than  ever!  Fancy  his  telling  you  that  he  was 
betrothed!  How  delightful!  I  must  ask  him  all  about  his 
chosen  fair  one.  But  I'm  positively  thankful  it  isn't  you, 
for  I'm  sure  he's  just  a  little  bit  off  his  head.  Even  this 
book  he  has  lent  you  looks  like  a  wizard's  property;"  and 
she  fluttered  the  leaves  of  the  "Dead  Musician's"  volume, 
turning  them  rapidl}^  over  in  search  of  something  attractive. 
Suddenly  she  paused  and  cried  out:  "Why,  this  is  right- 
down  awful!  He  must  have  been  a  regular  madman!  Just 
listen!"  and  she  read  aloud: 

"  'How  mighty  are  the  Kingdoms  of  the  Air!  How  vast 
they  are — how  densely  populated — how  glorious  are  their 
destinies — how  all-powerful  and  wise  are  their  inhabitants! 
The}^  possess  everlasting  health  and  beauty — their  movements 
are  music — their  glances  are  light — they  cannot  err  in  their 
laws  or  judgments,  for  their  existence  is  love.  Thrones, 
principalities,  and  powers  are  among  them,  yet  all  are  equal. 
Each  one  has  a  different  duty  to  perform,  yet  all  their  labors 
arc  lofty.  But  what  a  fate  is  ours  on  this  low  earth!  For, 
from  the  cradle  to  the  gi'ave,  we  are  watched  by  these 
spiritual  spectators — watched  with  unflinching  interest,  un- 

3 


34  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

licsitaliiig  regard.  0  Angelic  Spirits,  wliat  is  there  in  the 
poor  and  shabby  spectacle  of  human  life  to  attract  your 
mighty  Intelligences?  Sorrow,  sin,  pride,  shame,  ambition, 
failure,  obstinacy,  ignorance,  selfishness,  forgetfulness — 
enough  to  make  ye  veil  your  radiant  faces  in  unpierceable 
clouds  to  hide  forever  the  sight  of  so  much  crime  and  misery. 
Yet  if  there  be  the  faintest,  feeblest  effort  in  our  souls  to  an- 
swer to  the  call  of  your  voices,  to  rise  above  the  earth  by  force 
of  the  same  will  that  pervades  your  destinies,  how  the  sound 
of  great  rejoicing  permeates  those  wide  continents  ye  inhabit, 
like  a  wave  of  thunderous  music;  and  ye  are  glad,  Blessed 
Spirits! — glad  with  a  gladness  beyond  that  of  your  own  lives, 
to  feel  and  to  know  that  some  vestige,  however  fragile,  is 
spared  from  the  general  wreck  of  selfish  and  unbelieving 
Ilumanity.  Truly  we  work  under  the  shadow  of  a  "cloud  of 
Avitnesses."  Disperse,  disperse,  0  dense  yet  brilliant  multi- 
tudes! turn  away  from  me  your  burning,  truthful,  immuta- 
ble eyes,  filled  with  that  look  of  divine,  perpetual  regret  and 
pity!  Lo,  how  unworthy  am  I  to  behold  your  glory!  and  yet 
I  must  see  and  know  and  love  you  all,  while  the  mad  blind 
world  rushes  on  to  its  own  destruction,  and  none  can  avert 
its  doom.' " 

Here  Amy  threw  down  the  book  with  a  sort  of  contempt, 
and  said  to  me: 

"If  you  are  going  to  muddle  your  mind  with  the  ravings 
of  a  lunatic,  you  are  not  what  I  took  you  for.  Why,  it's 
regular  spiritualism!  Kingdoms  of  the  air  indeed!  And 
his  cloud  of  witnesses!     Eubbish!" 

"He  quotes  the  cloud  of  witnesses  from  St.  Paul,"  I  re- 
marked. 

"More  shame  for  him!"  replied  my  friend,  with  the  usual 
inconsistent  indignation  that  good  Protestants  invariably 
display  when  their  pet  corn,  the  Bible,  is  accidentally  trodden 
on.  "It  has  been  very  well  said  that  the  devil  can  quote 
Scripture,  and  this  musician  (a  good  job  he  is  dead,  I'm 
sure)  is  perfectly  blasphemous  to  quote  the  Testament  in 
support  of  his  ridiculous  ideas!  St.  Paul  did  not  mean  by 
*a  cloud  of  witnesses,'  a  lot  of  'air  multitudes'  and  'burning, 
immutable  eyes,'  and  all  that  nonsense." 

"Well,  what  did  he  mean?"  I  gently  persisted. 

"Oh,  he  meant — why,  you  know  very  well  what  he  meant," 
said  Amy.  in  a  tone  of  reproachful  solemnity.     "And  I  won- 


A    ROMANCE  OF   TWO   WORLDS.  35 

der  at  your  asking  me  such  a  question!  Surely  you  know 
your  Bible,  and  you  must  be  aware  that  St.  Paul  could 
never  have  approved  of  spiritualism." 

"  'And  there  are  bodies  celestial  and  bodies  terrestrial, 
but  one  is  the  glory  of  the  celestial,' "  I  quoted  with  a  slight 
smile. 

Mrs.  Everard  looked  shocked  and  almost  angry. 

"My  dear,  I  am  ashamed  of  you!  You  are  a  believer  in 
spirits,  I  do  declare!  Why,  I  thought  Maskelyne  and  Cook 
had  cured  everybody  of  such  notions;  and  now  here's  this 
horrid  book  going  to  make  you  more  nervous  than  ever. 
I  shall  have  you  getting  up  one  night  and  shrieking  about 
burning,  immutable  eyes  looking  at  you." 

I  laughed  merrily  as  I  rose  to  pick  up  the  discarded  volume 
from  the  floor. 

"Don't  be  afraid,"  I  said;  "I'll  give  back  the  book  to 
Signor  Cellini  to-morrow,  and  I  will  tell  him  that  you  do 
not  like  the  idea  of  my  reading  it,  and  that  I  am  going  to 
study  the  Bible  instead.  Come  now,  dear,  don't  look  cross!" 
and  I  embraced  her  warmly,  for  I  liked  her  far  too  well 
to  wish  to  offend  her.  "Let  us  concentrate  our  attention 
on  our  finery  for  to-night,  when  a  'dense  and  brilliant  mul- 
titude,' not  of  air,  but  of  the  'earth  earthy,'  will  pass  us 
under  critical  survey.  I  assure  you  I  mean  to  make  the  best 
of  my  improved  looks,  as  I  don't  believe  they  will  last.  I 
dare  say  I  shall  be  the  'sick  nun'  that  you  termed  me  again 
to-morrow." 

"I  hope  not,  dearest,"  said  my  friend  kindly,  returning 
my  caress  and  forgetting  her  momentary  ill-humor.  "A  jolly 
dance  will  do  you  good  if  you  are  careful  to  avoid  over- 
exertion. But  you  are  quite  right,  we  must  really  fix  our 
things  ready  for  the  evening,  else  we  shall  be  all  in  a  flurry 
at  the  last  moment,  and  nothing  riles  the  Colonel  so  much  as 
to  see  women  in  a  fuss.  I  shall  wear  my  lace  dress;  but  it 
wants  seeing  to.     Will  you  help  me?" 

Eeadily  assenting,  we  were  soon  deep  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  numberless  little  mysteries  that  make  up  a  woman's 
toilette;  and  nothing  but  the  most  frivolous  conversation  en- 
sued. But  as  I  assisted  in  the  sorting  of  laces,  jewels,  and 
other  dainty  appendages  of  evening  costume,  I  was  deep 
in  earnest  meditation.  Reviewing  in  my  own  mind  the 
various  sensations  I  had  experienced  since  I  had  tasted  that 


36  A    ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

Eastern  wine  in  Cellini's  studio,  I  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  must  have  tried  an  experiment  on  me  with  some 
foreign  drug,  of  which  he  alone  knew  the  properties.  Why 
he  should  do  this  I  could  not  determine;  but  that  he  had 
done  it  I  was  certain.  Besides  this,  I  felt  sure  that  he  per- 
sonally exerted  some  influence  upon  me — a  soothing  and 
calming  influence  I  was  forced  to  admit — still,  it  could  hardly 
he  allowed  to  continue.  To  be  under  the  control,  however 
slight,  of  one  who  was  almost  a  stranger  to  me,  was,  at  the 
least,  unnatural  and  unpleasant.  I  was  bound  to  ask  him 
a  few  plain  questions.  And,  supposing  Mrs.  Everard  were 
to  speak  to  him  about  his  being  betrothed,  and  he  were  to 
deny  it,  and  afterwards  were  to  turn  round  upon  me  and 
ask  what  authority  I  had  for  making  such  a  statement,  what 
should  I  say?  Convict  myself  of  falsehood?  However,  it  was 
no  use  to  puzzle  over  the  solution  of  this  difficulty  till  it 
positively  presented  itself.  At  any  rate,  I  determined  I  would 
ask  him  frankly,  face  to  face,  for  some  explanation  of  the 
strange  emotions  I  had  felt  ever  since  meeting  him;  and 
thus  resolved,  I  waited  patiently  for  the  evening. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
A  DANCE  AND  A  PROMISE. 

Our  little  French  friend,  Madame  Didier,  was  not  a  woman 
to  do  things  by  halves.  She  was  one  of  those  rare  exceptions 
among  Parisian  ladies — she  was  a  perfectly  happy  wife; 
nay,  more,  she  was  in  love  with  her  own  husband,  a  fact 
wbich,  considering  the  present  state  of  society  both  in 
1^'rance  and  England,  rendered  her  almost  contemptible  in  the 
eyes  of  all  advanced  thinkers.  She  was  plum])  and  jolly  in 
appearance;  round-eyed  and  brisk  as  a  lively  robin.  Her 
husband,  a  large,  mild-faced,  placid  man — "mon'petit  mari," 
as  she  called  him — permitted  her  to  have  her  own  way  in 
everythiug,  and  considered  all  she  did  as  perfectly  well  done. 
Therefore,  when  she  had  proposed  this  informal  dance  at 

the  Hotel   de   L ,   he  made  no   objection,  but   entered 

into  her  plans  with  spirit;    and,  what  was  far  more  impor- 
tant, opened  his  purse  readily  to  her  demands  for  the  neces- 


■A  ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  37 

sary  expenses.  So  nothing  was  stinted;  the  beautiful  ball- 
I'oom  attached  to  the  hotel  was  thrown  open,  and  lavishly 
decorated  with  flowers,  fountains,  and  twinkling  lights;  an 
awning  extended  from  its  windows  right  down  the  avenue 
of  dark  ilex-trees,  Avhich  were  ornamented  with  Chinese 
lanterns;  an  elegant  supper  was  laid  out  in  the  large  dining- 
room,  and  the  whole  establishment  was  en  fete.  The  deli- 
cious strains  of  a  Viennese  band  floated  to  our  ears  as  Colonel 
Everard,  his  wife,  and  myself  descended  the  staircase  on 
our  way  to  the  scene  of  revelry;  and  suggestions  of  fairyland 
were  presented  to  ns  in  the  graceful  girlish  forms,  clad  in 
light,  diaphanous  attire,  that  flitted  here  and  there,  or  occa- 
sionally passed  us.  Colonel  Everard  marched  proudly  along 
\\\i\\  the  military  bearing  that  always  distinguished  him,  now 
and  then  glancing  admiringly  at  his  wife,  who,  indeed,  looked 
her  very  best.  Her  dress  was  of  the  finest  Brussels  lace,  looped 
over  a  skirt  of  the  palest  shell-pink  satin;  deep  crimson 
velvet  roses  clustered  on  her  breast,  and  nestled  in  her  rich 
hair;  a  necklace  of  magnificent  rubies  clasped  her  neck,  and 
the  same  jewels  glittered  on  her  round  white  arms.  Her 
eyes  shone  with  pleasurable  excitement,  and  the  prettiest 
color  imaginable  tinted  her  delicate  cheeks. 

"When  an  ximerican  woman  is  lovely,  she  is  very  lovely." 
I  said.    "You  will  be  the  belle  of  the  room  to  night,  Amy!" 

"Nonsense!"  she  replied,  well  pleased,  though,  at  my  re- 
mark.    "You  must  remember  I  have  a  rival  in  yourself." 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders  incredulously. 

"It  is  not  like  you  to  be  sarcastic,"  I  said.  "You  know 
very  well  I  have  the  air  of  a  resuscitated  corpse." 

The  Colonel  wheeled  round  suddenly,  and  brought  us  all 
up  to  a  standstill  before  a  great  mirror. 

"If  you  are  like  a  resuscitated  corpse,  I'll  throw  a  luuulrcil 
dollars  into  the  next  mud-pond,"  he  observed.  "Look  at 
yourself." 

I  looked,  at  first  indifferently,  and  then  with  searching 
scrutiny.  I  saw  a  small,  slender  girl,  clad  in  Avhite,  with  a 
mass  of  gold  hair  twisted  loosely  up  from  her  neck,  and 
fastened  with  a  single  star  of  diamonds.  A  superb  garniture 
of  natural  lilies  of  the  valley  was  fastened  on  this  girl's 
shoulder;  and,  falling  loosely  across  her  breast,  lost  itself 
in  the  trailing  folds  of  her  gown.  She  held  a  palm-leaf  fan 
entirely  covered  with  lilies  of  the  valley,  and  a  girdle  of  the 


S8  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

same  flowers  encircled  her  waist.  Her  face  was  serious,  but 
contented;  her  eyes  were  bright,  but  with  an  intense  and 
tlioughtful  Ulster;  and  lier  clieeks  were  softly  colored,  as 
though  a  west  wind  had  blown  freshly  against  them.  There 
was  nothing  either  attractive  or  repulsive  about  her  that  I 
could  see;  and  yet — I  turned  away  from  the  mirror  hastily 
with  a  faint  smile. 

"The  lilies  form  the  best  part  of  my  toilette,"  I  said. 

"That  they  do,"  asserted  Amy,  with  emphasis.  "They 
are  the  finest  specimens  I  ever  saw.  It  was  real  elegant  of  Mr. 
Cellini  to  send  them  all  fixed  up  ready  like  that,  fan  and  all. 
You  must  be  a  favorite  of  his!" 

"Come,  let  us  proceed,"  I  answered,  with  some  abruptness. 
"We  are  losing  time." 

In  a  few  seconds  more  we  entered  the  ballroom,  and  were 
met  at  once  by  Madame  Didier,  who,  resplendent  in  black 
lace  and  diamonds,  gave  us  hearty  greeting.  She  stared  at 
me  Avith  unaffected  amazement. 

"MonDieuP'  iA\e  exclaimed — her  conversation  with  us  was 
always  a  mixture  of  French  and  broken  English — "I  should 
not  'ave  know  zis  young  lady  again!  She  'ave  si  bonne  mine. 
You  veel  dance,  scms  doute?" 

We  readily  assented,  and  the  usual  assortment  of  dancing- 
men  of  all  ages  and  sizes  was  brought  forward  for  our  inspec- 
tion; while  the  Colonel,  being  introduced  to  a  beaming  Eng- 
lish girl  of  some  seventeen  summers,  whirled  her  at  once 
into  the  merry  maze  of  dancers,  who  were  spinning  easily 
round  to  the  lively  melody  of  one  of  Strauss's  most  fascinating 
waltzes.  Presently  I  also  found  myself  circling  the  room  with 
an  amiable  young  German,  who  ambled  round  w4th  a  certain 
amount  of  cleverness,  considering  that  he  was  evidently  igno- 
rant of  the  actual  waltz  step;  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  now 
and  then  of  Amy's  rubies  as  they  flashed  past  me  in  the  dance 
— she  was  footing  it  merrily  with  a  handsome  Austrian  Hus- 
sar. The  room  was  pleasantly  full — not  too  crowded  for  the 
movements  of  the  dancers;  and  the  whole  scene  was  exceed- 
ingly pretty  and  animated.  I  had  no  lack  of  partners,  and  I 
WHS  surprised  to  find  myself  so  keenly  alive  to  enjoyment, 
and  so  completely  free  from  my  usual  preoccupied  condition 
of  nervous  misery.  I  looked  everywhere  for  Eaffaello  Cellini, 
but  he  was  not  to  be  seen.  The  lilies  that  I  wore,  which  he 
had  sent  mo,  seemed  quite  unafi'ectttd  by  the  heat  and  glare 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  39 

of  the  gaslight — not  a  leaf  drooped,  not  a  petal  withered;  and 
their  remarkable  whiteness  and  fragrance  elicited  many  ad- 
miring remarks  from  those  with  whom  I  conversed.  It  was 
growing  very  late;  there  \\'ere  only  two  more  waltzes  before 
the  final  cotillon.  I  was  standing  near  the  large  open  window 
of  the  ballroom,  conversing  with  one  of  my  recent  partners, 
when  a  sudden  inexplicable  thrill  shot  through  me  from  head 
to  foot.  Instinctively  I  turned,  and  saw  Cellini  approaching, 
lie  looked  remarkably  handsome,  though  his  face  was  pale 
and  somewhat  wearied  in  expression.  He  was  laughing  and 
conversing  gaily  with  two  ladies,  one  of  whom  was  Mrs. 
Everard;  and  as  he  came  towards  me  he  bowed  courteously, 
saying: 

"I  am  too  much  honored  b}'  the  kindness  mademoiselle 
has  shown  in  not  discarding  my  poor  flowers." 

"They  are  lovely,"  I  replied  simply;  "and  I  am  very  much 
obliged  to  you,  signor,  for  sending  them  to  me." 

"And  how  fresh  they  keep!"  said  Amy,  burying  her  little 
nose  in  the  fragrance  of  my  fan;  "yet  they  have  been  in  the 
heat  of  the  room  all  the  evening." 

"They  cannot  perish  while  mademoiselle  wears  them,"  said 
Cellini  gallantly.     "Her  breath  is  their  life." 

"Bravo!"  cried  Amy,  clapping  her  hands.  "That  is  very 
prettily  said,  isn't  it?" 

I  was  silent.  I  never  could  endure  compliments.  They 
are  seldom  sincere,  and  it  gives  me  no  pleasure  to  be  told 
lies,  however  prettily  they  may  be  worded.  Signor  Cellini 
appeared  to  divine  my  thoughts,  for  he  said  in  a  lower  tone: 

"Pardon  me,  mademoiselle;  I  see  my  observation  displeased 
you;  but  there  is  more  truth  in  it  than  you  perhaps  know." 

"Oh,  say!"  interrupted  Mrs.  Everard  at  this  juncture;  "I 
am  so  interested,  signor.  to  hear  vou  are  engaged!  I  suppose 
she  is  a  dream  of  beauty?" 

The  hot  color  rushed  to  my  cheeks,  and  I  bit  my  lips  in 
confusion  and  inquietude.  "What  would  he  answer?  My 
anxiety  was  not  of  long  duration.  Cellini  smiled,  and  seemed 
in  no  way  surprised.     He  said  quietly: 

"Who  told  you,  madame,  that  I  am  engaged?" 

"Why,  she  did,  of  course!"  went  on  my  friend,  nodding 
towards  me,  regardless  of  an  imploring  look  I  cast  at  her. 
"And  said  you  were  perfectly  devoted!" 

"She  is  quite  right,"  replied  Cellini,  with  another  of  those 


40  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

rare  sweet  smiles  of  his;  "and  you  also  are  right,  madam e, 
in  your  supposition:   my  betrothed  is  a  Dream  of  Beauty." 

I  was  infinitely  relieved.  I  had  not,  then,  been  guilty  of  a 
falsehood.  But  the  mystery  remained:  how  had  I  discovered 
the  truth  of  the  matter  at  all?  While  I  puzzled  my  mind 
over  this  question,  the  other  lady  who  had  accompanied  Mrs. 
Everard  spoke.  She  was  an  Austrian  of  brilliant  position  and 
attainments. 

"You  quite  interest  me,  signer!"  she  said.  "Is  your  fair 
fiancee  here  to-night?" 

"No,  madame,"  replied  Cellini;  "she  is  not  in  this  coun- 
try." 

"What  a  pity!"  exclaimed  Amy.  "I  want  to  see  her  real 
bad.    Don't  you?"  she  asked,  tarning  to  me. 

I  raised  my  eyes  and  met  the  dark  clear  ones  of  the  artist 
fixed  full  upon  me. 

"Yes,"  I  said  hesitatingly;  "I  should  like  to  meet  her. 
Perhaps  the  chance  will  o(;cur  at  some  future  time." 

"There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  about  that,"  said  Cellini. 
"And  now,  mademoiselle,  will  you  give  me  the  pleasure  of 
this  waltz  with  you?  or  are  you  promised  to  another  partner?" 

I  was  not  engaged,  and  I  at  once  accepted  his  proffered 
arm.  Two  gentlemen  came  hurriedly  up  to  claim  Amy  and 
her  Austrian  friend;  and  for  one  brief  moment  Signer  Cellini 
and  I  stood  alone  in  a  comparatively  quiet  corner  of  the  ball- 
room, waiting  for  the  music  to  begin.  I  opened  my  lips  to 
ask  him  a  question,  when  he  stopped  me  by  a  slight  gesture 
of  his  hand. 

"Patience!"  he  said  in  a  low  and  earnest  tone.  "In  a  few 
moments  you  shall  have  the  opportunity  you  seek." 

The  band  burst  forth  just  then  in  the  voluptuous  strains 
of  a  waltz  by  Gung'l,  and  together  we  floated  away  to  its 
exquisite  gliding  measure.  I  use  the  word  floated  advisedly, 
for  no  other  term  could  express  the  delightful  sensation  T 
enjoyed.  Cellini  was  a  superb  dancer.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
our  feet  scarcely  touched  the  floor,  so  swiftly,  so  easily  and 
lightly  we  sped  along.  A  few  rapid  turns,  and  I  noticed  we 
were  nearing  the  open  French  windows,  and,  before  I  well 
realized  it,  we  had  stopped  dancing  and  were  pacing  quietly 
side  by  side  down  the  ilex  avenue,  where  the  little  lanterns 
twinkled  like  red  fireflies  and  green  glow-worms  among  the 
dark  and  leafy  branches, 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  41 

Wc  walked  along  in  silence  till  we  reached  the  end  of 
the  path.  There,  before  us,  lay  the  open  garden,  with  its 
broad  green  lawn,  bathed  in  the  lovely  light  of  the  full 
moon,  sailing  aloft  in  a  cloudless  sky.  The  night  was  very 
warm,  but,  regardless  of  this  fact,  Cellini  wrapped  carefully 
round  me  a  large  fleecy  white  burnous  that  he  had  taken 
from  a  chair  where  it  was  lying,  on  his  way  through  the 
avenue. 

"I  am  not  cold,"  I  said,  smiling. 

"No;  but  you  will  be,  perhaps.  It  is  not  wise  to  run  any 
useless  risks." 

I  was  again  silent.  A  low  breeze  rustled  in  the  tree-tops 
near  us;  the  music  of  the  ballroom  reached  us  only  in  faint 
and  far  echoes;  the  scent  of  roses  and  myrtle  was  wafted  deli- 
cately on  the  balmy  air;  the  radiance  of  the  moon  softened 
the  outlines  of  the  landscape  into  a  dreamy  suggestiveness 
of  its  reality.  Suddenly  a  sound  broke  on  our  ears — a  deli- 
cious, long,  plaintive  trill;  then  a  wonderful  shower  of  spark- 
ling roulades;  and  finally,  a  clear,  imploring,  passionate  note 
repeated  many  times.  It  was  a  nightingale,  singing  as  only 
the  nightingales  of  the  South  can  sing.    I  listened  entranced. 

"'Thou  wast  Dot  born  for  death,  immortal  Bird! 
No  hungry  generations  tread  thee  down; 
The  voice  I  hear  this  passing  night  was  heard 
In  ancient  days  by  emperor  and  clown,'  " 

quoted  Cellini  in  earnest  tones. 

"You  admire  Keats?"  I  asked  eagerly. 

"More  than  any  other  poet  that  has  lived,"  he  replied. 
"His  was  the  most  ethereal  and  delicate  muse  that  ever  con- 
sented to  be  tied  down  to  earth.  But,  mademoiselle-,  you  do 
not  wish  to  examine  me  as  to  my  taste  in  poetry.  You  have 
some  other  questions  to  put  to  me,  have  you  not?" 

For  one  instant  I  hesitated.  Then  I  spoke  out  frankly, 
and  answered: 

"Yes,  signer.  "What  was  there  in  that  wine  you  gave  me 
this  morning?" 

He  met  my  searching  gaze  unflinchingly. 

"A  medicine,"  be  said.  "An  excellent  and  perfectly  simple 
remedy  made  of  the  juice  of  plants,  and  absolutely  harmless." 

"But  why,"  I  demanded,  "why  did  you  give  me  this  medi- 


42  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

cine?  Was  it  not  wrong  to  take  so  niucli  responsibility  npon 
yourself?" 

He  smiled. 

"I  think  not.  If  you  are  injured  or  offended,  then  I  was 
wrong;  but  if,  on  the  contrary,  your  health  and  spirits  are 
ever  so  little  improved,  as  I  see  they  are,  I  deserve  your  thanks, 
mademoiselle." 

And  he  waited  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  and  expectancy. 
I  was  puzzled  and«half-angry,  yet  I  could  not  help  acknowl- 
edging to  myself  that  I  felt  better  and  more  cheerful  than  I 
had  done  for  many  months.  I  looked  up  at  the  artist's  dark, 
intelligent  face,  and  said,  almost  humbly: 

"I  do  thank  you,  signor.  But  surely  you  will  tell  me  your 
reasons  for  constituting  yourself  my  physician  without  even 
asking  my  leave." 

He  laughed,  and  his  eyes  looked  very  friendly. 

^'Mademoiselle,  I  am  one  of  those  strangely  constituted 
beings  who  cannot  bear  to  see  any  innocent  thing  suffer. 
It  matters  not  whether  it  be  a  worm  in  the  dust,  a  butterfly 
in  the  air,  a  bird,  a  flower,  or  a  human  creature.  The  first 
time  I  saw  you  I  knew  that  your  state  of  health  precluded 
3'ou  from  the  enjoyment  of  life  natural  to  your  sex  and  age. 
I  also  perceived  that  the  physicians  had  been  at  work  upon 
you  trying  to  probe  into  the  causes  of  your  ailment,  and 
that  they  had  signally  failed.  Physicians,  mademoiselle,  are 
very  clever  and  estimable  men,  and  there  are  a  few  things 
which  come  within  the  limit  of  their  treatment;  but  there 
are  also  other  things  which  baffle  their  utmost  profundity 
of  knowledge.  One  of  these  is  that  wondrous  piece  of  human 
machinery,  the  nervous  system;  that  intricate  and  delicate 
network  of  line  threads — electric  wires  on  which  run  the 
messages  of  thought,  impulse,  affection,  emotion.  If  these 
threads  or  wires  become,  from  any  subtle  cause,  entangled, 
the  skill  of  the  mere  medical  practitioner  is  of  no  avail  to 
undo  the  injurious  knot,  or  to  unravel  the  confused  skein. 
The  drugs  generally  used  in  such  cases  are,  for  the  most 
part,  repellent  to  the  human  blood  and  natural  instinct, 
therefore  they  are  always  dangerous,  and  often  deadly.  T 
knew,  by  studying  your  face,  mademoiselle,  that  you  were 
suffering  as  acutely  as  T,  too,  suffered  some  five  years  ago, 
and  I  ventured  to  try  upon  you  a  simple  vegetable  essence. 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS.  43 

merely  to  see  if  you  were  capable  of  bcneliting  by  it.  The 
experiment  has  been  so  far  successful;    but '" 

He  paused,  and  his  face  became  graver  and  more  ab- 
stracted. 

"But  what?"  I  queried  eagerly. 

"I  was  about  to  say,"  he  continued,  "that  the  effect  is  only 
transitory.  Within  forty-eight  hours  you  must  naturally 
relapse  into  your  former  prostrate  condition,  and  I,  unfor- 
tunately, am  powerless  to  prevent  it." 

I  sighed  wearily,  and  a  feeling  of  disappointment  oppressed 
me.  Was  it  possible  that  I  must  again  be  tlie  victim  of 
miserable  dejection,  pain,  and  stupor? 

"You  can  give  me  another  dose  of  your  remedy,"  I  said. 

"That  I  cannot,  mademoiselle,"  he  answered  regretfully; 
"I  dare  not,  without  further  advice  and  guidance." 

"Advice  and  guidance  from  whom?"  I  inquired. 

"From  the  friend  who  cured  me  of  my  long  and  almost 
hopeless  illness,"  said  Cellini.  "He  alone  can  tell  mc  Avhethcr 
I  am  right  in  my  theories  respecting  your  nature  and  con- 
stitution." 

"And  what  are  those  theories?"  I  asked,  becoming  deeply 
interested  in  the  conversation. 

Cellini  was  silent  for  a  minute  or  so;  he  seemed  absorbed 
in  a  sort  of  inward  communion  with  himself.  Then  he  spoke 
with  impressiveness  and  gravity: 

"In  this  world,  mademoiselle,  there  are  no  two  natures 
alike,  yet  all  are  born  with  a  small  portion  of  Divinity  within 
them,  which  we  call  the  Soul.  It  is  a  mere  spark  smoulder- 
ing in  the  center  of  the  weight  of  clay  with  which  we  are 
encumbered,  yet  it  is  there.  Now  this  particular  germ  or  seed 
can  be  cultivated  if  we  will — that  is,  if  we  desire  and  insist 
on  its  growth.  As  a  child's  taste  for  art  or  learning  can 
be  educated  into  high  capabilities  for  the  future,  so  can  the 
human  Soul  be  educated  into  so  high,  so  supreme  an  attain- 
ment, that  no  merely  mortal  standard  of  measurement  can 
reach  its  magnificence.  With  much  more  than  half  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  globe,  this  germ  of«  immortality  remains  always 
a  germ,  never  sprouting,  overlaid  and  weiglited  down  by  the 
lymphatic  la/Iness  and  materialistic  pro])ensilies  of  its  shell  or 
husk — tlie  body.  But  I  must  put  aside  the  forlorn  prospect  of 
the  muititiules  in  whom  the  Divine  Essence  attains  to  no  larger 
quantity  than  that  proportioned  out  to  a  dog  or  bird — I  have 


44  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

only  to  speak  of  the  rare  few  with  whom  the  soul  is  every- 
thing— those  who,  perceiving  and  admitting  its  existence 
within  them,  devote  all  their  powers  to  fanning  up  their 
spark  of  light  till  it  becomes  a  radiant,  burning,  inextinguish- 
able flame.  The  mistake  made  by  these  examples  of  beatified 
Humanity  is  that  they  too  often  sacrifice  the  body  to  the 
demands  of  the  spirit.  It  is  difficult  to  find  the  medium  path, 
but  it  can  be  found;  and  the  claims  of  both  body  and  soul 
can  be  satisfied  without  sacrificing  the  one  to  the  other.  I 
beg  your  earnest  attention,  mademoiselle,  for  what  I  say 
concerning  the  rare  few  with  whom  the  Soul  is  everything. 
You  are  one  of  those  few,  unless  I  am  greatly  in  error.  And 
you  have  sacrificed  your  body  so  utterly  to  your  spirit  that 
the  flesh  rebels  and  suffers.  This  will  not  do.  You  have 
work  before  3^ou  in  the  world,  and  you  cannot  perform  it 
unless  you  have  bodily  health  as  well  as  spiritual  desire. 
And  why?  Because  you  are  a  prisoner  here  on  earth,  and  you 
must  obey  the  laws  of  the  prison,  however  unpleasant  they  may 
be  to  you.  Were  you  free  as  you  have  been  in  ages  past  and 
as  you  will  be  in  ages  to  come,  things  would  be  different;  but 
at  present  you  must  comply  with  the  orders  of  your  jailers — 
the  Lords  of  Life  and  Death." 

I  heard  him,  half  awed,  half  fascinated.  Ilis  words  Avoro 
full  of  mysterious  suggestions. 

"How  do  you  know  I  am  of  the  temperament  you  describe?" 
I  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

"I  do  not  know,  mademoiselle;  I  can  only  guess.  There 
is  but  one  person  who  can  perhaps  judge  of  you  correctly, — 
a  man  older  than  myself  by  many  years — whose  life  is  the 
very  acme  of  spiritual  perfection — whose  learning  is  vast 
and  imprejiidieed.  I  nnist  see  and  speak  to  him  before  I  try 
any  more  of  my,  or  rather  his,  remedies.  But  we  have  lin- 
gered long  enough  out  here,  and  unless  you  have  something 
more  to  say  to  mc.  we  will  return  to  the  ballroom.  You  will 
otherwise  miss  the  cotillon;"  and  he  turned  to  retrace  the 
way  through  the  illuminated  grove. 

But  a  sudden  thought  had  struck  me,  and  I  resolved  to 
utter  it  aloud.  Laying  my  hand  on  his  arm  and  looking  him 
full  in  the  face,  I  said  slowly  and  distinctly: 

"Tills  friend  of  yours  that  you  speak  of — is  not  his  name 
Ifeliobas?" 

Cellini  started  violently;  the  blood  rushed  up  to  his  broAvs 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  46 

and  as  quickly  receded,  leaving  him  paler  than  before.  His 
dark  eyes  glowed  with  suppressed  excitement — his  hand  trem- 
bled. Eecovering  himself  slowly,  he  met  my  gaze  fixedly; 
his  glance  softened,  and  he  bent  his  head  with  an  air  of 
respect  and  reverence. 

"Mademoiselle,  1  see  that  you  must  know  all.  It  is  your 
fate.  You  are  greatly  to  be  envied.  Come  to  me  to-morrow, 
and  I  will  tell  you  everything  that  is  to  be  told.  Afterwards 
your  destiny  rests  in  your  own  hands.  Ask  nothing  more  of 
me  just  now." 

He  escorted  me  without  further  words  back  to  the  ball- 
room, ^^'here  the  merriuient  of  the  cotillon  was  then  at  its 
height.  Whispering  to  Mrs.  Everard  as  I  passed  her  that  I 
was  tired  and  was  going  to  bed,  I  reached  the  outside  passage, 
and  there,  turning  to  Cellini,  I  said  gently: 

"Good-night,  signor.    To-morrow  at  noon  I  will  come." 

He  replied: 

"Good-night,  mademoiselle!  To-morrow  at  noon  you  will 
find  me  ready." 

With  that  he  saluted  me  courteously  and  turned  away. 
I  hurried  up  to  my  own  room,  and  on  arriving  there  I  could 
not  help  observing  the  remarkable  freshness  of  the  lilies  I 
wore.  They  looked  as  if  they  had  just  been  gathered.  I 
unfastened  them  all  from  my  dress,  and  placed  them  carefully 
in  w^ater;  then  quickly  disrobing,  I  was  soon  in  bed.  I  medi- 
tated for  a  few  minutes  on  the  various  odd  occurrences  of 
the  day;  but  my  thoughts  soon  grew  misty  and  confused,  and 
I  traveled  quickly  off  into  the  Land  of  Nod,  and  thence  into 
the  region  of  sleep,  where  I  remained  undisturbed  by  so 
much  as  the  shadow  of  a  dream. 


CHAPTER  y. 

CELLINI'S    STORY. 

The  following  morning  at  the  appointed  hour,  I  went  to 
Cellini's  studio,  and  was  received  by  him  with  a  sort  of  gentle 
courtesy  and  kindliness  that  became  him  very  well.  T  was 
already  beginning  to  experience  an  increasing  languor  and 
weariness,  the  sure  forerunner  of  what  the  artist  had  prophe- 


46  A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

sied — namely,  a  return  of  all  my  old  sufferings.  Amy,  tired 
out  by  the  dancing  of  the  previous  night,  was  still  in  bed, 
as  were  many  of  those  who  had  enjoyed  Madame  Didier's  fete; 
and  the  hotel  was  unusually  quiet,  almost  seeming  as  though 
half  the  visitors  had  departed  during  the  night.  It  was  a 
lovely  morning,  sunny  and  calm;  and  Cellini,  observing  that 
I  looked  listless  and  fatigued,  placed  a  comfortable  easy-chair 
for  me  near  the  window,  from  whence  I  could  see  one  of  the 
prettiest  parterres  of  the  garden,  gay  with  flowers  of  every 
color  and  perfume.  He  himself  remained  standing,  one  hand 
resting  lightly  on  his  writing-table,  which  was  strewn  with  a 
confusion  of  letters  and  newspapers. 

"Where  is  Leo?"  I  asked,  as  I  glanced  around  the  room  in 
search  of  that  noble  animal. 

"Leo  left  for  Paris  last  night,"  replied  Cellini;  "he  carried 
an  important  despatch  for  me,  which  I  feared  to  trust  to  the 
postoffice." 

"Is  it  safer  in  Leo's  charge?"  I  inquired,  smiling,  for  the 
sagacity  of  the  dog  amused  as  well  as  interested  me. 

"Much  safer!  Leo  carries  on  his  collar  a  small  tin  case, 
jast  large  enough  to  contain  several  folded  sheets  of  paper. 
When  he  knows  he  has  that  box  to  guard  during  his  journeys, 
he  is  simply  unapproachable.  He  would  fight  any  one  who 
attempted  to  touch  it  with  the  ferocity  of  a  hungry  tiger, 
and  there  is  no  edible  dainty  yet  invented  that  could  tempt 
his  appetite  or  coax  him  into  any  momentary  oblivion  of 
his  duty.  There  is  no  more  trustworthy  or  faithful  mes- 
senger." 

"I  suppose  you  have  sent  him  to  your  friend — his  master," 
I  said.  ' 

"Yes.    He  has  gone  straight  home  to — Heliobas." 

This  name  now  awakened  in  me  no  surprise  or  even  curi- 
osity. It  simply  sounded  homelike  and  familiar.  I  gazed 
abstractedly  out  of  the  window  at  the  brilliant  blossoms  in 
the  garden,  that  nodded  their  heads  at  me  like  so  many  little 
elves  with  colored  caps  on,  but  T  said  nothing.  I  felt  that 
Cellini  watched  mc  keenly  and  closely.  Presently  he  con- 
tinued: 

"Shall  T  tell  you  everything  now,  mademoiselle?" 

T  turned  towards  him  eagerly. 

"If  you  please,"  T  answered. 

""Mav  T  ask  vou  one  Question?" 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  47 

"Certainly." 

''How  and  where  did  you  hear  the  name  of  lleliobas?" 

I  loolved  up  hesitatingl}-. 

"In  a  dream,  signer^  strange  lo  say;  or  ratlier  in  three 
dreams.    I  will  relate  them  to  you/' 

And  I  described  the  visions  1  had  seeu,  being  careful  to 
omit  no  detail,  for,  indeed,  I  remembered  everything  with 
curious  distinctness. 

The  artist  listened  with  grave  and  lixed  attention.  Wben 
I  liad  concluded  he  said: 

"The  elixir  I  gave  you  acted  more  potently  than  even  I 
imagined  it  would.  You  are  more  sensitive  than  I  thought. 
Bo  rot  fatigue  yourself  any  more,  mademoiselle,  by  talking. 
AViih  your  })ermission  I  will  sit  down  here  opposite  to  you 
and  tell  you  my  story.  Afterwards  you  must  decide  for  your- 
s(>lf  whether  you  will  adopt  the  method  of  treatment  to  which 
]  owe  my  life,  and  something  more  than  my  life — my  reason." 

He  turned  his  own  library  chair  towards  me,  and  seated 
himself.  A  few  moments  passed  in  silence;  his  expression 
was  very  earnest  and  absorbed,  and  he  regarded  my  face  with 
a  sympathetic  interest  Avhich  touched  me  profoundly.  Though 
I  felt  myself  becoming  more  and  more  enervated  and  apatbetic 
as  the  time  went  on,  and  though  I  knew  I  was  gradually  sink- 
ing down  again  into  my  old  Slough  of  Despond,  yet  I  felt 
instinctively  that  I  was  somehow  actively  concerned  in  what 
was  about  to  be  said,  therefore  I  forced  myself  to  attend 
closely  to  every  word  uttered.  Cellini  began  to  speak  in 
low  and  quiet  tones  as  follows: 

"You  must  be  aware,  mademoiselle,  that  those  who  adopt 
any  art  as  a  means  of  livelihood  begin  the  world  heavily 
handicapped — weighted  down,  as  it  were,  in  the  race  for 
fortune.  The  following  of  art  is  a  very  different  thing  to 
tlu^  following  of  trade  or  mercantile  business.  In  buying  or 
selling,  in  undertaking  the  work  of  import  or  export,  a  good 
head  for  figures,  and  an  average  quantity  of  shrewd  common 
sense,  are  all  that  is  necessary  in  order  to  win  a  fair  share  of 
success.  But  in  the  finer  occupations,  whose  results  are  found 
in  sculpture,  painting,  music  and  poetry,  demands  are  made 
u])on  the  imagination,  the  emotions,  the  entire  spiritual  sus- 
ceptibility of  man.  The  most  delicate  fibers  of  the  brain 
are  taxed:  the  subtle  inner  workings  of  thought  are  brought 
into  active  play;    and  the  temperament  becomes  daily  and 


48  A   ROMANCE    OP    TWO    WORLDS. 

hourly  more  finely  strung,  more  sensitive,  more  keenly  alive 
to  every  passing  sensation.  Of  course  there  are  many  so-called 
^artists'  who  are  mere  shams  of  the  real  thing;  persons  who,  _ 
having  a  little  surface-education  in  one  or  the  other  branch 
of  the  arts,  play  idly  with  the  paint-brush,  or  dabble  carelessly 
in  the  deep  waters  of  literature, — or  borrow  a  few  crotchets 
and  quavers  from  other  composers,  and  putting  them  together 
in  haste,  call  it  original  composition.  Among  these  are  to 
be  found  the  self -called  'professors'  of  painting;  the  sculp- 
tors who  allow  the  work  of  their  'ghosts'  to  be  admired  as 
their  own;  the  magazine-scribblers;  the  'smart'  young  leader- 
writers  and  critics;  the  half-hearted  j)erformers  on  piano  or 
violin  who  object  to  any  innovation,  and  prefer  to  grind  on 
in  the  unemotional,  coldly  correct  manner  which  they  are 
pleased  to  term  the  'classical' — such  persons  exist,  and  will 
exist,  so  long  as  good  and  evil  are  leading  forces  of  life.  They 
are  the  aphides  on  the  rose  of  art.  But  the  men  and  women 
I  speak  of  as  artists  are  those  who  work  day  and  night  to 
attain  even  a  small  degree  of  perfection,  and  who  are  never 
satisfied  with  their  own  best  efforts.  I  was  one  of  these 
some  years  ago,  and  I  humbly  assert  myself  still  to  be  of 
the  same  disposition;  only  the  difference  between  myself 
then  and  myself  now  is,  that  then  I  struggled  blindly  and 
despairingly,  and  now  I  labor  patiently  and  with  calmness, 
knowing  positively  that  I  shall  obtain  what  I  seek  at  the 
duly  appointed  hour.  I  was  educated  as  a  painter,  mademoi- 
selle, by  my  father,  a  good,  simple-hearted  man,  whose  little 
landscapes  looked  like"  bits  cut  out  of  the  actual  field  and 
woodland,  so  fresh  and  pure  were  they.  But  I  was  not 
content  to  follow  in  the  plain  path  he  first  taught  me  to 
tread.  Merely  correct  drawing,  merely  correct  coloring,  were 
not  sufficient'  for  my  ambition.  I  had  dazzled  my  eyes  with 
the  loveliness  of  Correggio's  'Madonna,'  and  had  marveled 
at  the  wondrous  blue  of  her  robe— a  blue  so  deep  and  intense 
that  I  used  to  think  one  might  scrape  away  the  paint  till  a 
hole  was  bored  in  the  canvas  and  yet  not  reach  the  end  of 
that  fathomless  azure  tint;  I  had  studied  the  warm  hues  of 
Titian;  I  had  felt  ready  to  float  away  in  the  air  Avith  the  mar- 
velous 'Angel  of  the  Annunciation' — and  with  all  these 
thoughts  in  me,  how  could  I  content  myself  with  the  ordinary 
aspiration  of  modern  artists?  I  grew  absorbed  in  one  sub- 
ject—Color.   T  noted  how  lifeless  and  pale  the  colonng  of 


A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  49 

to-day  appeared  beside  that  of  the  old  masters,  and  I  medi- 
tated deeply  on  the  problem  thus  presented  to  me.  What 
was  the  secret  of  Correggio — of  Fra  Angelico — of  Raphael? 
I  tried  various  experiments;  I  bought  the  most  expensive  and 
highly  guaranteed  pigments.  In  vain,  for  they  were  all  adul- 
terated by  the  dealers!  Then  I  obtained  colors  in  the  rough, 
and  ground  and  mixed  them  myself;  still,  though  a  little 
better  result  was  obtained,  I  found  trade  adulteration  still 
at  work  with  the  oils,  the  varnishes,  the  mediums — in  fact, 
with  everything  that  painters  use  to  gain  effect  in  their 
works.  I  could  nowhere  escape  from  vicious  dealers,  who, 
to  gain  a  miserable  percentage  on  every  article  sold,  are 
content  to  be  among  the  most  dishonest  men  in  this  dishonest 
age. 

"I  assure  you,  mademoiselle,  that  not  one  of  the  pictures 
which  are  now  being  painted  for  the  salons  of  Paris  and 
London  can  possibly  last  a  hundred  years.  I  recently  visited 
that  Palace  of  Art,  the  South  Kensington  Museum,  in  London, 
and  saw  there  a  large  fresco  by  Sir  Frederick  Leighton.  It 
had  just  been  completed,  I  was  informed.  It  was  already 
fading!  Within  a  few  years  it  will  be  a  blur  of  indistinct 
outlines.  I  compared  its  condition  with  the  cartoons  of 
Eaphael,  and  a  superb  Giorgione  in  the  same  building;  these 
were  as  warm  and  bright  as  though  recently  painted.  It  is 
not  Leighton's  fault  that  his  works  are  doomed  to  perish  as 
completely  oft'  the  canvas  as  though  he  had  never  traced  them; 
it  is  his  dire  misfortune,  and  that  of  every  other  nineteenth- 
century  painter,  thanks  to  the  magnificent  institution  of  free 
trade,  which  has  resulted  in  a  vulgar  competition  of  all 
countries  and  all  classes  to  see  which  can  most  quickly  jostle 
the  other  out  of  existence.  But  I  am  wearying  you,  made- 
moiselle— pardon  me!  To  resume  my  own  story.  As  I  told 
you,  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  the  one  subject  of  Color; 
it  haunted  me  incessantly.  I  saw  in  my  dreams  visions  of 
exquisite  forms  and  faces  that  I  longed  to  transfer  to  my 
canvas,  but  I  could  never  succeed  in  the  attempt.  My  hand 
seemed  to  have  lost  all  skill.  About  this  time  my  father 
died,  and  I,  having  no  other  relation  in  the  world,  and  no 
ties  of  home  to  cling  to,  lived  in  utter  solitude,  and  tortured 
my  brain  more  and  more  with  the  one  question  that  baffled 
and  perplexed  me.  I  became  moody  and  irritable;  I  avoided 
intercourse  with  everyone,  and  at  last  sleep  forsook  my  eyes. 

4 


EO  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

Then  came  a  terrible  season  of  feverish  trouble,  nervous  de- 
jection and  desjDair.  At  times  I  would  sit  silently  brooding; 
at  others  1  started  up  and  walked  rapidly  for  hours,  in  the 
hope  to  calm  the  wild  unrest  that  took  possession  of  my  brain. 
I  was  then  living  in  Eome,  in  the  studio  that  had  been  my 
father's.  One  evening — how  well  I  remember  it! — I  was  at- 
tacked by  one  of  those,  fierce  impulses  that  forbade  me  to 
rest  or  think  of  sleep,  and,  as  usual,  I  hurried  out  for  one 
of  those  long  aimless  excursions  I  had  latterly  grown  accus- 
tomed to.  At  the  open  street-door  stood  the  proprietress  of 
the  house,  a  stout,  good-natured  contadina,  with  her  youngest 
child  Pippa  holding  to  her  skirt.  As  she  saw  me  approaching, 
she  started  back  with  an  exclamation  of  alarm,  and  catching 
the  little  girl  up  in  her  arms,  she  made  the  sign  of  the  cross 
rapidly.  Astonished  at  this,  I  paused  in  my  hasty  walk,  and 
said  with  as  much  calmness  as  I  could  muster: 

"  'What  do  you  mean  by  that?  Have  I  the  evil-eye,  think 
you?' 

"Curly-haired  Pippa  stretched  out  her  arms  to  me — I  liad 
often  caressed  the  little  one,  and  given  her  sweetmeats  and 
toys — but  her  mother  held  her  back  with  a  sort  of  smothered 
scream,  and  muttered: 

"  'Holy  Virgin!    Pippa  must  not  touch  him;  he  is  mad.' 

"Mad?  1  looked  at  the  woman  and  child  in  scornful 
amazement.  Then  without  further  words  I  turned,  and  Avent 
swiftly  away  down  the  street  out  of  their  sight.  Mad!  Was 
I  indeed  losing  my  reason?  Was  this  the  terrific  meaning 
of  my  sleepless  nights,  my  troubled  thoughts,  my  strange 
inquietude?  Fiercely  I  strode  along,  heedless  whither  I  was 
going,  till  I  found  "myself  suddenly  on  the  borders  of  the 
desolate  Campagna.  A  young  moon  gleamed  aloft,  looking 
like  a  slender  sickle  thrust  into  the  heavens  to  reap  an  over- 
abundant harvest  of  stars.  I  paused  irresolutely.  There  was 
a  deep  silence  everywhere.  I  felt  faint  and  giddy:  curious 
flashes  of  light  danced  past  my  eyes,  and  my  limbs  shook 
like  those  of  a  palsied  old  man.  I  sank  upon  a  stone  to  rest, 
to  try  and  arrange  my  scattered  ideas  into  some  sort  of  con- 
nection and  order.  Mad!  I  clasped  my  aching  head  between 
my  hands,  and  brooded  on  the  fearful  prospect  looming  be- 
fore me,  and  in  the  words  of  poor  King  Lear,  T  prayed  in 
my  heart: 

"  'O  let  me  not  be  mad,  not  mad,  sweet  heavens'.' 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  CI 

"Prayer!  There  was  another  thought.  How  could  I  pray? 
For  I  was  a  skeptic.  My  father  had  educated  me  with  broadly 
materiahstic  views;  he  himself  was  a  follower  of  Voltaire, 
and  with  his  finite  rod  he  took  the  measure  of  Divinity, 
greatly  to  his  own  satisfaction.  He  was  a  good  man,  too, 
and  he  died  with  exemplary  calmness  in  the  absolute  certainty 
of  there  being  nothing  in  his  composition  but  dust,  to  which 
he  was  bound  to  return.  He  had  not  a  shred  of  belief  in  any- 
thing but  what  he  called  the  Universal  Law  of  Necessity; 
perhaps  this  was  why  all  his  pictures  lacked  inspiration. 
I  accepted  his  theories  without  thinking  much  about  them, 
and  I  had  managed  to  live  respectably  without  any  religious 
belief.  But  now — now  with  the  horrible  phantom  of  madness 
rising  before  me — my  firm  nerves  quailed.  1  tried,  I  longed 
to  pray.  Yet  to  whom?  To  what?  To  the  Universal  Law 
of  Necessity?  In  that  there  could  be  no  hearing  or  answering 
of  human  petitions.  I  meditated  on  this  with  a  kind  of 
somber  ferocity.  Who  portioned  out  this  Law  of  Necessity? 
What  brutal  Code  compels  us  to  be  born,  to  live,  to  suffer, 
and  to  die  without  recompense  or  reason?  Why  should  this 
Universe  be  an  ever-circling  Wheel  of  Torture?  Then  a  fresh 
impetus  came  to  me.  I  rose  from  my  recumbent  posture  and 
stood  erect;  I  trembled  no  more.  A  curious  sensation  of 
defiant  amusement  possessed  me  so  violently  that  I  laughed 
aloud.  Such  a  laugh,  too!  I  recoiled  from  the  sound,  as 
from  a  blow,  with  a  shudder.  It  was  the  laugh  of — a  mad- 
man! I  thought  no  more;  I  was  resolved.  I  would  fulfill 
the  grim  Law  of  Necessity  to  its  letter.  If  Necessity  caused 
my  birth,  it  also  demanded  my  death.  Necessity  could  not 
force  me  to  live  against  my  will.  Better  eternal  nothingness 
than  madness.  Slowly  and  deliberately  I  took  from  my  vest 
a  Milanese  dagger  of  thin  sharp  steel — one  that  I  always 
carried  with  me  as  a  means  of  self-defense — I  drew  it  from 
its  sheath,  and  looked  at  the  fine  edge  glittering  coldly  in 
the  pallid  moon-rays.  I  kissed  it  joyously;  it  was  my  final 
remedy!  I  poised  it  aloft  with  firm  fingers — another  instant 
and  it  would  have  been  buried  deep  in  my  heart,  when  I  felt 
a  powerful  grasp  on  my  wrist,  and  a  strong  arm  struggling 
Avith  mine  forced  the  dagger  from  my  hand.  Savagely  angry 
at  being  thus  foiled  in  my  desperate  attempt,  I  staggered 
back  a  few  paces  and  sullenly  stared  at  my  rescuer.  He  was  a 
taU  man,  clad  in  a  dark  overcoat  bordered  with  fur;  he  looked 


52  A    ROMANCE  OF  TWO  WORLDS. 

like  a  wealthy  Englisliman  or  American  traveling  for  pleasure. 
His  features  were  fine  and  commanding;  his  eyes  gleamed 
with  a  gentle  disdain  as  he  coolly  met  my  resentful  gaze.  When 
he  spoke  his  voice  was  rich  and  mellilluous,  though  his  accents 
had  a  touch  in  them  of  grave  scorn. 

"  'So  you  are  tired  of  your  life,  young  man!  All  the  more 
reason  have  you  to  live.  Anyone  can  die.  A  murderer  has 
moral  force  enough  to  jeer  at  his  hangman.  It  is  very  easy 
to  draw  the  last  breath.  It  can  be  accomplished  successfully 
hy  a  child  or  a  warrior.  One  pang  of  far  less  anguish  than  the 
toothache,  and  all  is  over.  There  is  nothing  heroic  about  it, 
I  assure  you!  It  is  as  common  as  going  to  bed;  it  is  almost 
prosy.  Life  is  heroism,  if  yon  like;  but  death  is  a  mere  cessa- 
tion of  business.  And  to  make  a  rapid  and  rude  exit  off  the 
stage  before  the  prompter  gives  the  sign  is  always,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  ungraceful.  Act  the  part  out,  no  matter  how  bad 
the  play.    What  say  you?' 

'"And,  balancing  the  dagger  lightly  on  one  finger,  as  though 
it  were  a  paper-knife,  he  smiled  at  me  with  so  much  frank 
kindliness  that  it  was  impossible  to  resist  him.  I  advanced  and 
held  out  my  hand. 

"  'Whoever  you  are,'  I  said,  'you  speak  like  a  true  man.    But 

you  are  ignorant  of  the  causes  which  compelled  me  to ' 

and  a  hard  sob  choked  my  utterance.  My  new  acquaintance 
pressed  my  proffered  hand  cordially,  but  the  gravity  of  his 
tone  did  not  vary  as  he  replied: 

"  'There  is  no  cause,  my  friend,  which  compels  us  to  take 
violent  leave  of  existence,  unless  it  be  madness  or  cowardice.' 

"  'Aye,  and  what  if  it  were  madness?'  I  asked  him  eagerly. 
He  scanned  me  attentively,  and  laying  his  fingers  lightly  on 
my  wrist,  felt  my  pulse. 

"  'Pooh,  my  dear  sir!'  he  said;  'you  are  no  more  mad  tlian 
I  am.  You  are  a  little  overwrought  and  excited — that  I  ad- 
mit. You  have  some  mental  worry  that  consumes  you.  You 
shall  tell  me  all  about  it.  I  have  no  doubt  I  can  cure  you  in 
a  few  days.' 

"Cure  me?    I  looked  at  him  in  wonderment  and  doubt. 

'"Are  you  a  physician?'  T  asked. 

"He  laughed.  'Not  I!  I  should  be  sorry  to  belong  to  the 
profession.  Yet  I  administer  medicines  and  give  advice  in 
f'ortain  cases.  I  am  simply  a  remedial  agent — not  a  docior. 
But  why  do  we  stand  here  in  this  bleak  place,  which  must  be 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  5S 

peopled  by  the  ghosts  of  olden  heroes?  Come  with  me,  will 
you?  I  am  going  to  the  Hotel  Costanza,  and  we  can  talk 
there.  As  for  this  pretty  toy,  permit  me  to  return  it  to  you. 
You  will  not  force  it  again  to  the  unpleasant  task  of  despatch- 
ing its  owner.' 

*'And  he  handed  the  dagger  back  to  me  v/ith  a  slight  bow. 
I  sheathed  it  at  once,  feeling  somxcwhat  like  a  chidden  child, 
as  I  met  the  slightly  satirical  gleam  of  the  clear  bkie  eyes  that 
watched  me. 

'■'  'Will  you  give  me  your  name,  signor?'  I  asked,  as  we 
turned  from  the  Campagna  toAvards  the  city. 

"'With  pleasure.  I  am  called  Heliobas.  A  strange  name? 
Oh,  not  at  all!  It  is  pure  Chaldee.  My  mother — as  lovely  an 
Eastern  houri  as  IMurillo's  ]\Iadonna,  and  as  devout  as  Santa 
Teresa — gave  me  the  Christian  saint's  name  of  Casimir  also, 
but  Heliobas  2^ur  et  sinq^Ie  suits  me  best,  and  by  it  I  am  gen- 
erally known.' 

"'You  are  a  Chaldean?'   I  inquired. 

"  'Exactly  so.  I  am  descended  directly  from  one  of  those 
"wise  men  of  the  East"  (and,  by  the  way,  there  Avere  more 
than  three,  and  they  Avere  not  all  kings),  who,  being  A\ddc 
aAvako,  happened  to  notice  the  birth-star  of  Christ  on  the 
horizon  before  the  rest  of  the  Avorld's  inhabitants  had  so  much 
as  rubbed  their  sleepy  eyes.  The  Chaldeans  have  been  al- 
Avays  quick  of  obserA'ation  from  time  immemorial.  But  in  re- 
turn for  my  name,  j'-ou  will  favor  me  Avitli  yours?' 

"I  gave  it  readily,  and  Ave  walked  on  together.  I  felt  won- 
derfully calmed  and  cheered — as  soothed,  mademoiselle,  as  I 
have  noticed  you  yourself  have  felt  Avhen  in  my  company." 

Here  Cellini  paused,  and  looked  at  me  as  though  expecting 
a  question;  but  I  preferred  to  remain  silent  till  I  had  heard 
all  he  had  to  say.     He  therefore  resumed: 

"We  reached  the  Hotel  Costanza,  where  Heliobas  Avas  evi- 
dently Avell  knoAvn.  The  waiters  addressed  him  as  Monsieur 
le  Comte;  but  he  gave  me  no  information  as  to  this  title.  He 
had  a  superb  suite  of  rooms  in  the  hotel,  furnished  with  every 
modern  luxury;  and  as  soon  as  Ave  entered  a  light  supper  Avas 
served.  He  invited  me  to  partake,  and  Avithin  the  space  of 
half  an  hour  I  had  told  him  all  my  history — my  ambition — 
my  strivings  after  the  perfection  of  color — my  disappoint- 
ment, dejection,  and  despair — and,  finally,  the  fearful  dread 
of  eominsr  madness  that  had  driven  me  to  attempt  my  own 


54  A   ROMANCE   OP   TWO    WORLDS. 

life.  He  listened  patiently  and  with  unbroken  attention. 
When  I  had  finished,  he  laid  one  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and 
said  gently: 

"  'Young  man,  pardon  me  if  I  say  that  up  to  the  present 
your  career  has  been  an  inactive,  useless,  selfish  ^'kicking 
against  the  pricks."  as  St.  Paul  says.  You  set  before  yourself 
a  task  of  noble  effort,  namely,  to  discover  the  secret  of  coloring 
as  known  to  the  old  masters;  and  because  you  meet  with  the 
petty  difficulty  of  modern  trade  adulteration  in  your  materials, 
you  think  that  there  is  no  chance — that  all  is  lost.  Fie!  Do 
you  think  Nature  is  overcome  by  a  few  dishonest  traders?  She 
can  still  give  you  in  abundance  the  unspoilt  colors  she  gave 
to  Eaphael  and  Titian.;  but  not  in  haste — not  if  you  vulgarly 
scramble  for  her  gifts  in  a  mood  that  is  impatient  of  obstacle 
and  delay.  ^'Ohne  hast,  oline  rast,'' is  the  motto  of  the  stars. 
Learn  it  well.  You  have  injured  your  bodily  health  by  useless 
fretfulness  and  peevish  discontent,  and  with  that  we  have  first 
to  deal.  In  a  week's  time,  I  will  make  a  sound,  sane  man  of 
you;  and  then  I  will  teach  you  how  to  get  the  colors  you  seek 
— yes!'  he  added,  smiling,  'even  to  the  compassing  of  Correg- 
gio's  blue.* 

"1  could  not  speak  for  joy  and  gratitude;  I  grasped  my 
friend  and  preserver  by  the  hand.  We  stood  thus  together  for 
a  brief  interval,  when  suddenly  Heliobas  drew  himself  up  to 
the  full  stateliness  of  his  height  and  bent  his  calm  eyes  delib- 
erately upon  me.  A  strange  thrill  ran  through  me;  I  still 
held  his  hand. 

"  'Rest!'  he  said  in  slow  and  emphatic  tones.  'Weary  and 
overwrought  frame,  take  thy  full  and  needful  measure  of  re- 
pose! Struggling  and  deeply  injured  spirit,  be  free  of  thy 
narrow  prison!  By  that  Force  which  I  acknowledge  within 
mo  and  thee  and  in  all  created  things,  I  command  thee, 
rest!' 

"Fascinated,  awed,  overcome  by  his  manner,  I  gazed  at  him 
and  would  have  spoken,  but  my  tongtie  refused  its  office — my 
senses  swam — my  eyes  closed — my  limbs  gave  way — I  fell 
senseless." 

(.^ellini  again  paused  and  looked  at  me.  Intent  on  his  words, 
I  would  not  interrupt  hini.    lie  went  on: 

"When  I  say  senseless,  mademoiselle,  I  allude  of  course  to 
my  body.  But  I,  myself — that  is,  my  soul — was  conscious;  I 
lived,  I  moved,  I  heard,  I  saw.    Of  that  experience  I  am  for- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  55 

bidden  to  speak.  When  1  returned  to  mortal  existence  I  found 
myself  lying  on  a  couch  in  the  same  room  where  I  had  supped 
with  Heliobas,  and  Heliobas  himself  sat  near  me  reading.  It 
was  broad  noonday.  A  delicious  sense  of  tranquillity  and 
youthful  buoyancy  was  upon  me,  and  without  speaking  I 
sprang  up  from  my  recumbent  position  and  touched  him  on 
the  arm.    He  looked  up. 

'•  'Well?'  he  asked,  and  his  eyes  smiled. 

"I  seized  his  hand,  and  pressed  it  reverently  to  my  lips. 

^'  ']\Iy  best  friend!'  I  exclaimed.  'What  wonders  have  I  not 
seen — what  truths  have  I  not  learned — what  mysteries!' 

"  'On  all  these  things  be  silent,'  replied  Heliobas.  'They 
must  not  be  lightly  spoken  of.  And  of  the  questions  you  nat- 
urally desire  to  ask  me,  you  shall  have  the  answers  in  due 
time.  What  has  happened  to  you  is  not  wonderful;  you  have 
simply  been  acted  upon  by  scientific  means.  But  your  cure 
is  not  yet  complete.  A  few  days  more  passed  wdth  me  will 
restore  you  thoroughly.  Will  you  consent  to  remain  so  long- 
in  my  company  ?' 

"Gladly  and  gratefully  I  consented,  and  we  spent  the  next 
ten  days  together,  during  which  Heliobas  administered  to  me 
certain  remedies,  external  and  internal,  which  had  a  mar- 
velous effect  in  renovating  and  invigorating  my  system.  By 
the  expiration  of  that  time  I  was  strong  and  -well — a  sound 
and  sane  man,  as  ray  rescuer  had  promised  I  should  be — my 
brain  was  fresh  and  eager  for  work,  and  my  mind  was  filled 
with  new  and  grand  ideas  of  art.  And  I  had  gained  through 
Heliobas  two  inestimable  things — a  full  comprehension  of  tlio 
truth  of  religion,  and  the  secret  of  human  destiny;  and  I  lind 
won  a  love  so  exquisite!" 

Here  Cellini  paused,  and  his  eyes  were  uplifted  in  a  sort 
of  wondering  rapture.    He  continued  after  a  pause: 

"Yes,  mademoiselle,  I  discovered  that  I  was  loved  and 
watched  over  and  guided  by  One  so  divinely  beautiful,  so 
gloriously  faithful,  that  mortal  language  fails  before  the  de- 
scription of  such  perfection!" 

He  paused  again,  and  again  continued: 

"When  he  found  me  perfectly  healthy  again  in  mind  and 
body,  Heliobas  showed  me  his  art  of  mixing  colors.  From 
that  hour  all  my  works  were  successful.  You  know  that  my 
pictures  are  eagerly  purchased  as  soon  as  completed,  and  that 
the  color  I  obtain  in  them  is  to  the  world  a  mysterv  alni(i-t 


56  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

magical.  Yet  there  is  not  one  among  the  humblest  of  artists 
who  could  not,  if  he  chose,  make  use  of  the  same  means  as  I 
have  done  to  gain  the  nearly  imperishable  hues  that  still  glow 
on  the  canvases  of  Eaphael.  But  of  this  there  is  no  need  to 
speak  just  now.  I  have  told  you  my  story,  mademoiselle,  and 
it  now  rests  with  me  to  apply  its  meaning  to  yourself.  You 
are  attending?" 

'Terfectly,"  I  replied;  and,  indeed,  my  interest  at  this  point 
was  so  strong  that  I  could  almost  hear  the  expectant  beating 
of  my  heart.    Cellini  resumed: 

"Electricity,  mademoiselle,  is,  as  you  are  aware,  the  wonder 
of  our  age.  No  end  can  be  foreseen  to  the  marvels  it  is  ca- 
pable of  accomplishing.  But  one  of  the  most  important 
branches  of  this  great  science  is  ignorantly  derided  just  now 
by  the  larger  portion  of  society — I  mean  the  use  of  human 
electricity;  that  force  which  is  in  each  one  of  us — in  you  and 
in  me — and,  to  a  very  large  extent,  in  Heliobas.  He  has  culti- 
vated the  electricity  in  his  own  system  to  such  an  extent  that 
his  mere  touch,  his  lightest  glance,  have  healing  in  them,  or 
the  reverse,  as  he  chooses  to  exert  his  power — I  may  say  it  is 
never  the  reverse,  for  he  is  full  of  kindness,  sympathy,  and 
pity  for  all  humanity.  His  influence  is  so  great  that  he  can, 
without  speaking,  by  his  mere  presence  suggest  his  own 
thoughts  to  other  people  who  are  perfect  strangers,  and  cause 
them  to  design  and  carry  out  certain  actions  in  accordance 
witli  his  plans.  You  are  incredulous?  ]\Iademoiselle,  this 
pov/er  is  in  every  one  of  us;  only  we  do  not  cultivate  it,  be- 
cause our  education  is  yet  so  imperfect.  To  prove  the  truth 
of  what  I  say,  I,  though  I  have  only  advanced  a  little  way  in 
the  cultivation  of  my  own  electric  force,  even  I  have  influ- 
enced you.  You  cannot  deny  it.  By  my  thought,  impelled 
to  you,  you  saw  clearly  my  picture  that  was  actually  veiled. 
By  my  force,  you  replied  correctly  to  a  question  I  asked  you 
concerning  that  same  picture.  By  my  desire,  you  gave  me, 
without  being  aware  of  it,  a  message  from  one  I  love  when 
you  said,  'Dieuvoiis  c/ardeP  You  remember?  And  the  elixir 
I  gave  you,  which  is  one  of  the  simplest  remedies  discovered 
by  Heliobas,  had  the  effect  of  making  you  learn  what  he  in- 
tended you  to  learn — his  name." 

"He!"  I  exclaimed.    "Why,  he  does  not  know  me — he  can 
have  no  intentions  towards  me!" 

"Mademoiselle,"  replied  Cellini  gravely,  "if  you  will  think 


A    ROMANCE    OP    TWO    WORLDS.  57 

again  of  the  last  of  your  three  dreams,  you  will  not  doubt  that 
he  has  intentions  towards  you.  As  I  told  you,  he  is  a  physical 
electrician.  By  that  is  meant  a  great  deal.  He  knows  by  in- 
stinct whether  he  is  or  will  be  needed  sooner  or  later.  Let 
me  finish  what  I  have  to  say.  You  are  ill,  mademoiselle — ill 
from  overwork.  You  are  awimjjrovisatrice — that  is,  you  have 
the  emotional  genius  of  music,  a  spiritual  thing  unfettered  bv 
rules,  and  utterly  misunderstood  by  the  world.  You  cultivate 
this  faculty,  regardless  of  cost;  you  suffer,  and  you  will  suffer 
more.  In  proportion  as  your  powers  in  music  grow,  so  will 
your  health  decline.  Go  to  Heliobas;  he  will  do  for  you  what 
he  did  for  me.  Surely  you  will  not  hesitate?  Between  years 
of  weak  invalidism  and  perfect  health  in  less  than  a  fortnight, 
there  can  be  no  question  of  choice." 

I  rose  from  my  seat  slowly. 

"Where  is  this  Heliobas?"  I  asked.    "In  Paris?" 

"Yes,  in  Paris.  If  you  decide  to  go  there,  take  my  advice, 
and  go  alone.  You  can  easily  make  some  excuse  to  your 
friends.  I  will  give  you  the  address  of  a  ladies'  Pension,  where 
you  will  be  made  at  home  and  comfortable.    May  I  do  this?" 

"If  you  please,"  I  answered. 

He  wrote  rapidly  in  pencil  on  a  card  of  his  own: 

"Madame  Denise, 

"36,  Avenue  du  Midi, 
"Paris," 

and  handed  it  to  me.  I  stood  still  where  I  had  risen,  think- 
ing deeply.  I  had  been  impressed  and  somewhat  startled  by 
Cellini's  story;  but  I  was  in  no  way  alarmed  at  the  idea  of 
trusting  myself  to  the  hands  of  a  physical  electrician  such  as 
Heliobas  professed  to  be.  I  knew  that  there  were  many  cases 
of  serious  illnesses  being  cured  by  means  of  electricity — that 
electric  baths  and  electric  "^appliances  of  all  descriptions  were 
in  ordinary  use;  and  I  saw  no  reason  to  be  surprised  at  the 
fact  of  a  man  being  in  existence  who  had  cultivated  electric 
force  within  himself  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was  able  to  use 
it  as  a  healing  power.  There  seemed  to  me  to  be  really  noth- 
ing extraordinary  in  it.  The  only  part  of  Cellini's  narration  I 
did  not  credit  was  the  soul-transmigration  he  professed  to  have 
experienced;  and  I  put  tliat  down  to  the  over-excitement  of 
his  imagination  at  the  time  of  his  first  interview  with  Helio- 
bas.   But  I  kept  this  thought  to  myself.  In  any  case,  I  resolved 


58  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

to  go  to  Paris.  The  great  desire  of  my  life  was  to  be  in  per- 
fect health,  and  I  determined  to  omit  no  means  of  obtaining 
this  inestimable  blessing.  Cellini  watched  me  as  I  remained 
standing  before  him  in  silent  abstraction. 

"Will  3^ou  go?"  he  inquired  at  last. 

"Yes;  I  will  go,"  I  replied.  "But  will  you  give  me  a  letter 
to  your  friend?" 

"lico  has  taken  it  and  all  necessary  explanations  a-iready," 
said  Cellini,  smiling;  "I  knew  3'ou  would  go.  Heliobas  expects 
you  the  day  after  to-morrow.  His  residence  is  Hotel  Mars, 
Champs  Elysees.  You  are  not  angry  with  me,  mademoiselle? 
I  could  not  help  knowing  that  you  would  go!" 

I  smiled  faintly. 

"Electricity  again,  I  suppose!  No,  I  am  not  angry.  Why 
should  I  be?  I  thank  you  very  much,  signor,  and  I  shall 
thank  you  more  if  Heliobas  indeed  effects  my  cure." 

"Oh,  that  is  certain,  positively  certain,"  answered  Cellini; 
"you  can  indulge  that  hope  as  much  as  you  like,  mademoiselle, 
for  it  is  one  that  cannot  be  disappointed.  Before  you  leave 
me,  you  will  look  at  your  own  picture,  will  you  not?"  and, 
advancing  to  his  easel,  he'  uncovered  it. 

I  was  greatly  surprised.  I  thought  he  had  but  traced  the 
outline  of  my  features,  whereas  the  head  was  almost  completed. 
I  looked  at  it  as  I  would  look  at  the  portrait  of  a  stranger. 
It  was  a  wistful,  sad-eyed,  plaintive  face,  and  on  the  pale  gold 
of  the  hair  rested  a  coronal  of  lilies. 

"It  will  soon  be  finished,"  said  Cellini,  covering  the  easel 
again;  "I  shall  not  need  another  sitting,  which  is  fortunate, 
as  it  is  so  necessary  for  you  to  go  away.  And  now  will  you 
look  at  the  'Life  and  Death'  once  more?" 

I  raised  my  eyes  to  the  grand  picture,  unveiled  that  day  in 
all  its  beauty. 

"The  face  of  the  Life- Angel  thei^,"  went  on  Cellini  quietly, 
"is  a  poor  and  feeble  resemblance  of  the  One  I  love.  You 
knew  I  was  betrothed,  mademoiselle?" 

I  felt  confused,  and  was  endeavoring  to  find  an  answer  to 
this  when  he  continued: 

"Do  not  trouble  to  explain,  for  I  know  how  you  knew.  But 
no.  more  of  this.    Will  you  leave  Cannes  to-morrow?" 

"Yes.    In  the  morning." 

"Then  good-bye,  mademoiselle.  Should  I  never  see  you 
acain " 


A   ROMANCE   0^   TWO   WORLDS.  59 

''iS'ever  see  me  again!*'  I  interrupted.  ''Why,  what  do  you 
mean?"  '' 

"1  do  not  allude  to  your  destinies,  but  to  mine,"  he  said, 
with  a  kindly  look.  "My  business  may  call  me  away  from 
here  before  you  come  back — our  paths  may  lie  apart — many 
circumstances  may  occur  to  prevent  our  meeting — so  that,  I 
repeat,  should  I  never  see  you  again,  you  will,  I  hope,  bear 
me  in  your  friendly  remembrance  as  one  who  was  sorry  to  see 
you  suffer,  and  who  was  the  humble  means  of  guiding  you  to 
renewed  health  and  happiness." 

I  held  out  my  hand,  and  my  eyes  filled  with  tears.  There 
was  something  so  gentle  and  chivalrous  about  him,  and  withal 
so  warm  and  sympathetic,  that  I  felt  indeed  as  if  I  were  bid- 
ding adieu  to  one  of  the  truest  friends  I  should  ever  have  in 
my  life. 

"I  hope  nothing  will  cause  you  to  leave  Cannes  till  I  return 
to  it,"  I  said  with  real  earnestness.  "I  should  like  you  to  Judge 
of  my  restoration  to  health." 

"There  will  be  no  need  for  that,"  he  replied;  "I  shall  know 
when  you  are  quite  recovered  through  Heliobas." 

He  pressed  my  hand  warmly. 

"I  brought  back  the  book  you  lent  me,"  I  went  on;  "but 
I  should  like  a  copy  of  it  for  myself.    Can  I  get  it  anywhere?" 

"Heliobas  will  give  you  one  with  pleasure,"  replied  Cellini: 
"you  have  only  to  make  the  request.  The  book  is  not  on  sale. 
It  was  printed  for  private  circulation  only.  And  now,  m^ade- 
moiselle,  we  part.  I  congratulate  3'ou  on  the  comfort  and  joy 
awaiting  you  in  Paris.  Do  not  forget  the  address — Hotel 
Mars,  Champs  Elysees.    Farewell!" 

And  again  shaking  my  hand  cordially,  he  stood  at  his  door 
watching  me  as  I  passed  out  and  began  to  ascend  the  stairs 
leading  to  my  room.  On  the  landing  I  paused,  and,  looking 
round,  saw  him  still  there.  I  smiled  and  waved  my  hand.  He 
did  the  same  in  response,  once — twice;  then  turning  abruptly, 
disappeared. 

That  afternoon  I  explained  to  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Everard 
tli;lt  1  had  resolved  to  consult  a  celebrated  physician  in  Paris 
(wliose  name,  however,  I  did  not  mention),  and  should  go 
there  alone  for  a  few  days.  On  hearing  that  I  knew  of  a  well- 
recommended  ladies'  Pension,  they  made  no  objection  to  my 
arrangements,  and  they  agreed  to  remain  at  the  Hotel  de 
L till  I  returned.    I  gave  them  no  details  of  my  plans. 


60  A    ROMANCE   OP   TWO   WORLDS. 

and  of  course  never  mentioned  Ilaffaello  Cellini  in  connection 
with  the  matter.  A  nervous  and  wretchedly  agitated  night 
made  me  more  than  ever  determined  to  try  the  means  of  cure 
proposed  to  me.  At  ten  o'clock  the  following  morning  I  left 
Cannes  by  express  train  for  Paris.  Just  before  starting  I  no- 
ticed that  the  lilies  of  the  valley  Cellini  had  given  me  for  the 
dance  had,  in  spite  of  my  care,  entirely  withered,  and  were 
already  black  with  decay — so  black  that  they  looked  as  though 
they  had  been  scorched  by  a  Hash  of  lightning. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  HOTEL  MARS  AND  ITS  OWNER. 

It  was  between  three  and  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
day  succeeding  the  night  of  my  arrival  in  Paris,  when  1  found 
myself  standing  at  the  door  of  the  Hotel  Mars,  Champs  Ely- 
sees.  I  had  proved  the  Pension  kept  by  Madame  Denise  to  be 
everything  that  could  be  desired;  and  on  my  presentation  of 
Kafl'aello  Cellini's  card  of  introduction,  I  had  been  welcomed 
by  the  maitresse  tie  la  ynaisun-  with  a  cordial  elfusiveuess 
that  amounted  almost  to  enthusiasm. 

"Ce  cher  Cellini!"  the  cheery  and  pleasant  little  woman 
had  exclaimed,  as  she  set  before  me  a  deliciously  prepared 
breakfast.  "Je  I'aime  tant!  II  a  si  bon  coeur!  et  ses  beaux 
yeux!  Mon  Dieu,  comme  uu  ange!" 

As  soon  as  I  had  settled  the  various  little  details  respecting 
my  room  and  attendance,  and  had  changed  my  traveling- 
dress  for  a  quiet  visiting  toilette,  I  started  for  the  abode  of 
Hcliobas. 

The  weather  was  very  cold;  I  had  left  the  sunmier  behind 
me  at  Cannes,  to  find  winter  reigning  supreme  in  Paris.  A  l)it- 
ier  east  wind  blew,  and  a  few  Hakes  of  snow  fell  now  and  then 
from  the  frowning  sky.  The  house  to  which  I  betook  myself 
was  situated  at  a  commanding  corner  of  a  road  facing  the 
Champs  Elysees.  It  was  a  noble-looking  building.  The  broad 
steps  leading  to  the  entrance  were  guarded  on  either  side  by 
a  sculptured  Sphinx,  each  of  Avhom  held,  in  its  massive  stone 
paws,  a  plain  shield,  inscribed  with  the  old  Eoman  greeting  to 
strangers,  "Salve!"     Over  the  portico  was  designed  a  scroll 


lA   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS,  61 

which  bore  the  name  "Hotel  Mars"  in  clearly  cut  capitals,  and 
the  monogram  "C.  H." 

I  ascended  the  steps  with  some  hesitation,  and  twice  I  ex- 
tended my  hand  towards  the  bell,  desiring  yet  fearing  to 
awaken  its  summons.  I  noticed  it  was  an  electric  bell,  not 
needing  to  be  pulled  but  pressed;  and  at  last,  after  many 
doubts  and  anxious  suppositions,  I  very  gently  laid  my  fingers 
on  the  little  button  which  formed  its  handle.  Scarcely  had 
I  done  this  than  the  great  door  slid  open  rapidly  without  the 
least  noise.  I  looked  for  the  servant  in  attendance — there  M'as 
none.  I  paused  an  instant;  the  door  remained  invitingly  open, 
and  through  it  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  flowers.  Resolving  to 
be  bold,  and  to  hesitate  no  longer,  I  entered.  As  I  crossed 
the  threshold,  the  door  closed  behind  me  instantly  with  its 
previous  swiftness  and  silence. 

I  found  myself  in  a  spacious  hall,  light  and  lofty,  sur- 
rounded with  fluted  pillars  of  white  marble.  In  the  center 
a  fountain  bubbled  melodiously,  and  tossed  up  every  now  and 
then  a  high  jet  of  sparkling  spray,  while  round  its  basin  grew 
the  rarest  ferns  and  exotics,  which  emitted  a  subtle  and  deli- 
cate perfume.  No  cold  air  penetrated  here;  it  was  as  warm 
and  balmy  as  a  spring  day  in  Southern  Italy.  Light  Indian 
bamboo  chairs  provided  with  luxurious  velvet  cushions  were 
placed  in  various  corners  between  the  marble  columns,  and  on 
one  of  these  I  seated  myself  to  rest  a  minute,  wondering  what 
I  should  do  next,  and  whether  anyone  would  come  to  ask  me 
the  cause  of  my  intrusion.  My  meditations  were  soon  put  to 
flight  by  the  appearance  of  a  young  lad,  who  crossed  the  hall 
from  the  left-hand  side  and  approached  me.  He  was  a  hand- 
some boy  of  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age,  and  he  was  attired 
in  a  simple  Greek  costume  of  white  linen,  relieved  with  a 
broad  crimson  silk  sash.  A  small  flat  crimson  cap  rested  on 
his  thick  black  curls;  this  he  lifted  with  deferential  grace, 
and,  saluting  me,  said  respectfully: 

"My  master  is  ready  to  receive  you,  mademoiselle." 

I  rose  without  a  word  and  followed  him,  scarcely  permitting 
myself  to  speculate  as  to  how  his  master  knew  I  was  there 
at  all. 

The  hall  was  soon  traversed,  and  the  lad  paused  before  a 
niagnificent  curtain  of  deep  crimson  velvet,  heavily  bordered 
with  gold.  Pulling  a  twisted  cord  that  hung  beside  it,  the 
heavy,  regal  folds  parted  in  twain  with  noiseless  regularity, 


G2  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

and  displayed  an  octagon  room,  so  exquisitely  designed  and 
ornamented  that  I  gazed  upon  it  as  upon  some  rare  and  beauti- 
ful picture.  It  was  unoccupied,  and  my  young  escort  placed  a 
chair  for  me  near  the  central  window,  informing  me  as  he  did 
so  that  "Monsieur  le  Comte"  would  be  with  me  instantly; 
whereupon  he  departed. 

Left  alone,  I  gazed  in  bewilderment  at  the  loveliness  round 
me.  The  walls  and  ceiling  were  painted  in  fresco.  I  could 
not  make  out  the  subjects,  but  I  could  see  faces  of  surpassing 
beauty  smiling  from  clouds,  and  peering  between  stars  and 
crescents.  The  furniture  appeared  to  be  of  very  ancient  Ara- 
bian design;  each  chair  was  a  perfect  masterpiece  of  wood- 
carving,  picked  out  and  inlaid  with  gold.  The  sight  of  a  semi- 
grand  piano,  which  stood  open,  brought  me  back  to  the  reali- 
zation that  I  was  living  in  modern  times,  and  not  in  a  dream 
of  the  Arabian  Nights;  while  the  Paris  Figaro  and  the  Lon- 
don Times — both  of  that  day's  issue — lying  on  a  side-table, 
demonstrated  the  nineteenth  century  to  me  with  every  possible 
clearness.  There  were  flowers  everywhere  in  this  apartment — • 
in  graceful  vases  and  in  gilded  osier  baskets — and  a  queer  lop- 
sided Oriental  jar  stood  quite  near  me,  filled  almost  to  over- 
flowing with  Neapolitan  violets.  Yet  it  was  winter  in  Paris, 
and  flowers  were  rare  and  costly. 

Looking  about  me,  I  perceived  an  excellent  cabinet  photo- 
graph of  Iiaft'aello  Cellini,  framed  in  antique  silver;  and  I 
rose  to  examine  it  more  closely,  as  being  the  face  of  a  friend. 
While  I  looked  at  it,  I  heard  the  sound  of  an  organ  in  the 
distance  playing  softly  an  old  familiar  church  chant.  I  lis- 
tened. Suddenly  I  Ix'thought  myself  of  the  three  dreams  that 
1iad  visited  me,  and  a  kind  of  nervous  dread  came  upon  mo. 
This  Heliobas, — was  I  right  after  all  in  coming  to  consult 
him?  Was  he  not  perhaps  a  mere  charlatan?  and  might  not 
his  experiments  upon  me  prove  fruitless,  and  possibly  fatal? 
An  idea  seized  me  that  I  would  escape  while  there  was  yet 
time.  Yes!  ...  I  would  not  see  him  to-day,  at  any  rate;  I 
would  write  and  explain.  These  and  other  disjointed  thoughts 
crossed  my  mind;  and  yielding  to  tlie  unreasoning  impulse  of 
fear  that  possessed  me,  I  actually  turned  to  leave  the  room, 
when  I  saw  the  crimson  velvet  portiere  dividing  again  in  its 
regular  and  graceful  folds,  and  ITeliobas  himself  entered. 

I  stood  mute  and  motionless.  I  knew  him  well;  he  was  the 
very  man  T  had  seen  in  my  third  and  last  dream;   the  same 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  63 

iiublc,  calm  features;  the  same  commanding  presence;  the 
same  keen,  clear  eyes;  the  same  compelling  smile.  There  was 
notliing  extraordinary  about  his  appearance  except  his  stately 
bearing  and  handsome  countenance;  his  dress  was  that  of  any 
well-to-do  gentleman  of  the  present  day,  and  there  was  no 
affectation  of  mystery  in  his  manner.  He  advanced  and  bowed 
courteously;  then,  with  a  friendly  look,  held  out  his  hand.  1 
gave  him  mine  at  once. 

*'So  you  are  the  young  musician?"  he  said,  in  those  warm 
mellifluous  accents  that  1  had  heard  before  and  that  I  so  well 
remembered.  "My  friend  liaffaello  Cellini  has  written  to  me 
about  you.  I  hear  you  have  been  suffering  from  physical  de- 
pression ?" 

He  spoke  as  any  physician  might  do  who  inquired  after  a 
patient's  health.  I  was  surprised  and  relieved.  I  had  pre- 
pared myself  for  something  darkly  mystical,  almost  cabalistic; 
but  there  was  nothing  unusual  in  the  demeanor  of  this  pleasant 
and  good-looking  gentleman  who,  bidding  me  be  seated,  took 
a  chair  himself  opposite  to  me,  and  observed  me  with  that 
sympathetic  and  kindly  interest  which  any  well-bred  doctor 
would  esteem  it  his  duty  to  exhibit.  I  became  quite  at  ease, 
and  answered  all  his  questions  fully  and  frankly.  He  felt  my 
]uilse  in  the  customary  way,  and  studied  my  face  attentively. 
1  described  all  my  symptoms,  and  he  listened  with  the  utmost 
])atience.  When  I  had  concluded,  he  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
and  appeared  to  ponder  deeply  for  some  moments.  Then  he 
spoke. 

"You  know,  of  course,  that  I  am  not  a  doctor?" 

"I  know,"  I  said;  "Signor  Cellini  explained  to  me." 

"Ah!"  and  Heliobas  smiled.  "Eafl'aello  explained  as  much 
as  he  might;  but  not  everything.  I  must  tell  you  I  have  a 
simple  pharmacopoeia  of  my  own — it  contains  twelve  reme- 
dies, and  only  twelve.  In  fact  there  are  no  more  that  are  of 
any  use  to  the  human  meclumism.  All  are  made  of  the  juice 
of  plants,  and  six  of  them  are  electric.  Eaffaello  tried  you 
with  one  of  them,  did  he  not?" 

As  he  put  this  question,  I  was  aware  of  a  keenly  inquiring 
look  sent  from  the  eyes  of  my  interrogator  into  mine. 

"Yes,"  I  answered  frankly,  "and  it  made  me  dream,  and  I 
dreamt  of  you." 

Heliobas  laughed  lightly. 

"So! — that  is  well.     Now  I  am  going  in  the  first  place  to 


64  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

give  you  wliat  I  am  sure  will  be  satisfactory  information.  If 
you  agree  to  trust  yourself  to  my  care,  you  will  be  in  perfect 
health  in  a  little  less  than  a  fortnight — but  you  must  follow 
my  rules  exactly/* 

I  started  up  from  my  seat. 

"Of  course!"  I  exclaimed  eagerly,  forgetting  all  my  previous 
fear  of  him;  "I  will  do  all  you  advise,  even  if  you  wish  to  mag- 
netize me  as  you  magnetized  Signer  Cellini!" 

"I  never  magnetized  Eaffaello,"  he  said  gravely;  "he  was 
on  the  verge  of  madness,  and  he  had  no  faith  whereby  to  save 
himself.  I  sim-ply  set  him  free  for  a  time,  knowng  that  his 
was  a  genius  which  would  find  out  things  for  itself  or  perish 
in  the  eflort.  I  let  him  go  on  a  voyage  of  discovery,  and  he 
came  back  perfectly  satisfied.  That  is  all.  You  do  not  need 
his  experience." 

"How  do  you  know?"  I  asked. 

"You  are  a  woman — your  desire  is  to  be  well  and  strong, 
health  being  beauty — to  love  and  to  be  beloved — to  wear 
pretty  toilettes  and  to  be  admired;  and  you  have  a  creed  which 
satisfies  you,  and  which  you  believe  in  without  proofs." 

There  was  the  slightest  possible  tinge  of  mockery  in  his 
voice  as  he  said  these  words.  A  tumultuous  rush  of  feelings 
overcame  me.  My  high  dreams  of  ambition,  my  innate  scorn 
of  the  trite  and  commonplace,  my  deep  love  of  art,  my  desires 
of  fame — all  these  things  bore  down  upon  m.j  heart  and  over- 
came it,  and  a  pride  too  deep  for  tears  arose  in  me  and  found 
utterance. 

"You  think  I  am  so  slight  and  weak  a  thing!"  I  exclaimed. 
"You,  who  profess  to  understand  the  secrets  of  electricity — ^you 
have  no  better  instinctive  knowledge  of  me  than  that!  Do  you 
deem  women  all  alike — all  on  one  common  level,  fit  for  noth- 
ing but  to  be  the  toys  or  drudges  of  men  ?  Can  you  not  realize 
that  there  are  some  among  them  who  despise  the  inanities  of 
everyday  life — who  care  nothing  for  the  routine  of  society, 
and  whose  hearts  are  filled  with  cravings  that  no  mere  human 
love  or  life  can  satisfy?  Yes — even  weak  women  are  capable 
of  greatness;  and  if  we  do  sometimes  dream  of  what  we  can- 
not accomplish  throngh  lack  of  the  physical  force  necessary 
for  large  achievements,  that  is  not  our  fault  but  our  misfor- 
tune. We  did  not  create  ourselves.  We  did  not  ask  to  be 
bom  with  the  over-sensitiveness,  the  fatal  delicacy,  the  highly- 
strung  nervousness  of  the  feminine  nature.    Monsieur  Helio- 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO    WORLDS.  65 

bas,  yoii  are  a  learned  and  far-seeing  man,  1  have  no  doubt; 
but  you  do  not  read  me  aright  if  you  judge  me  as  a  mere 
woman  who  is  perfectly  contented  with  the  petty  common- 
places of  ordinary  living.  And  as  for  my  creed,  what  is  it  to 
you  whether  I  kneel  in  the  silence  of  my  own  room  or  in  the 
glory  of  a  lighted  cathedral  to  pour  out  my  very  soul  to  One 
whom  I  know  exists,  and  whom  I  am  satisfied  to  believe  in,  as 
you  say,  without  proofs,  save  such  proofs  as  I  obtain  from  my 
own  inner  consciousness?  I  tell  you,  though  in  your  opinion  it 
is  evident  my  sex  is  against  me,  I  would  rather  die  than  sink 
into  the  miserable  nonentity  of  such  lives  as  are  lived  by  the 
majority  of  women." 

X  paused,  overcome  by  my  own  feelings.    HeHobas  smiled. 

"So!  You  are  stung!"  he  said  quietly;  "stung  into  action. 
That  is  as  it  should  be.  Eesume  your  seat,  mademoiselle,  and 
do  not  be  angry  witli  me.  I  am  studying  you  for  your  own 
good.  In  the  meantime  permit  me  to  analyze  your  words  a 
little.  You  are  young  and  inexperienced.  You  speak  of  the 
'over-sensitiveness,  the  fatal  delicacy,  the  highly-strung  nerv- 
ousness of  the  feminine  nature.'  My  dear  lady,  if  you  had  lived 
as  long  as  I  have,  you  would  know  that  these  are  mere  stock 
l)hrases — for  the  most  part  meaningless.  As  a  rule,  women 
are  less  sensitive  than  men.  There  are  many  of  your  sex  who 
are  nothing  but  lumps  of  lymph  and  fatty  matter — women 
with  less  instinct  than  the  dumb  beasts,  and  with  more  brutal- 
ity. There  are  others  who, — adding  the  low  cunning  of  the 
monkey  to  the  vanity  of  the  peacock, — seek  no  other  object 
but  the  furtherance  of  their  own  designs,  which  are  always 
]3etty  even  when  not  absolutely  mean.  There  are  obese  women 
v.hose  existence  is  a  doze  between  dinner  and  tea.  There  are 
women  with  thin  lips  and  pointed  noses,  who  only  live  to 
squabble  over  domestic  grievances  and  interfere  in  their  neigh- 
bors' business.  There  are  your  murderous  women  with  large 
almond  eyes,  fair  white  hands,  and  volviptuous  red  lips,  who, 
deprived  of  the  dagger  or  the  poison-howl,  will  slay  a  reputa- 
tion in  a  few  lazily  enunciated  words,  delivered  with  a  perfectly 
high-bred  accent.  There  are  the  miserly  women  who  look 
after  cheese-parings  and  candle-ends,  and  lock  up  the  soap. 
There  are  the  spiteful  women  whose  very  breath  is  acidity  and 
venom.  There  are  the  frivolous  women  whose  ehitter-chatter 
and  senseless  giggle  are  as  empty  as  the  rattling  of  dry  peas  on 
a  drum.  In  fact,  the  delicacy  of  women  is  extremely  over' 
5 


66  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

rated — their  coarseness  is  never  done  full  justice  to.  I  have 
heard  them  recite  in  pubhc  selections  of  a  kind  that  no  man 
would  dare  to  undertake — such  as  Tennyson's  'Rizpah/  for  in- 
stance. I  know  a  woman  who  utters  every  line  of  it,  with  all 
its  questionable  allusions,  boldly  before  any  and  everybody, 
without  so  much  as  an  attempt  at  blushing.  I  assure  you  men 
are  far  more  delicate  than  women — far  more  chivalrous — far 
larger  in  their  views,  and  more  generous  in  their  sentiments. 
But  I  will  not  deny  the  existence  of  about  four  women  in 
every  two  hundred  and  fifty,  who  may  be,  and  possibly  are, 
examples  of  what  the  female  sex  was  originally  intended  to  be 
— pure-hearted,  self-denying,  gentle  and  truthful — filled  with 
tenderness  and  inspiration.     Heaven  knows  my  own  mother 

was  all  this  and  more!     And  my  sister  is But  let  me 

speak  to  you  of  yourself.  You  love  music,  I  understand — you 
are  a  professional  artist?" 

"I  was,"  I  answered,  "till  my  state  of  health  stopped  me 
from  working." 

Heliobas  bent  his  eyes  upon  me  in  friendly  sympathy. 

"You  were,  and  you  will  be  again,  an  iinprovisatrice,"  he 
went  on.  "Do  you  not  find  it  difficult  to  make  your  audiences 
understand  your  aims?" 

I  smiled  as  the  remembrance  of  some  of  my  experiences 
in  public  came  to  my  mind. 

"Yes,"  I  said,  half  laughing.  "In  England,  at  least,  people 
do  not  know  what  is  meant  by  improvising.  They  think  it 
is  to  take  a  little  theme  and  compose  variations  on  it — the 
mere  A  B  C  of  the  art.  But  to  sit  down  to  the  piano  and  plan 
a  whole  sonata  or  symphony  in  your  head,  and  play  it  while 
planning  it,  is  a  thing  they  do  not  and  will  not  understand. 
They  come  to  hear,  and  they  wonder  and  go  away,  and  the 
critics  declare  it  to  be  clap-trap." 

"Exactly!"  replied  Heliobas.  "But  you  are  to  be  congrat- 
ulated on  having  attained  this  verdict.  Everything  that 
people  cannot  quite  understand  is  called  clap-trap  in  England; 
as  for  instance  the  matchless  violin-playing  of  Sarasate;  the 
tempestuous  splendor  of  Rubinstein;  the  wailing  throb  of 
passion  in  Hollmann's  violoncello — this  i.s,  according  to  the 
London  press,  clap-trap;  while  the  coldly  correct  performances 
of  Joachim  and  the  'icily-null'  renderings  of  Charles  Halle 
arc  voted  'magnificent'  and  'full  of  color.'  But  to  return  to 
yourself.    Will  you  play  to  me?" 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  67 

"I  have  not  touched  the  instrument  for  two  months/'  I  said; 
"I  am  afraid  I  am  out  of  practice." 

"Then  you  shall  not  exert  yourself  to-day,"  returned  Helio- 
bas  kindly.  "But  I  believe  I  can  help  you  with  your  improvi- 
sations. You  compose  the  music  as  you  play,  you  tell  me. 
AYell,  have  you  any  idea  how  the  melodies  or  the  harmonies 
form  themselves  in  your  brain?" 

"Not  the  least  in  the  world,"  I  replied. 

"Is  the  act  of  thinldng  them  out  an  effort  to  you?"  he 
asked. 

"i^ot  at  all.  They  come  as  though  someone  else  were  plan- 
ning them  for  me." 

"Well,  well!  I  think  I  can  certainly  be  of  use  to  you  in  this 
matter  as  in  others.  I  understand  your  temperament  thor- 
oughly.   And  now  let  me  give  you  my  first  prescription." 

He  went  to  a  corner  of  the  room  and  lifted  from  the  floor 
an  ebony  casket,  curiously  carved  and  ornamented  with  silver. 
This  he  unlocked.  It  contained  twelve  flasks  of  cut  glass, 
stoppered  with  gold  and  numbered  in  order.  He  next  pulled 
out  a  side  drawer  in  this  casket,  and  in  it  I  saw  several  little 
thin  empty  glass  tubes,  about  the  size  of  a  cigarette-holder. 
Taking  two  of  these  he  filled  them  from  two  of  the  larger 
flasks,  corked  them  tightly,  and  then  turning  to  me,  said: 

"To-night,  on  going  to  bed,  have  a  warm  bath,  empty  the 
contents  of  the  tube  marked  No.  1  into  it,  and  then  immerse 
yourself  thoroughly  for  about  live  minutes.  After  the  bath, 
put  the  fluid  in  this  other  tube  marked  8,  into  a  tumbler  of 
fresh  spring  water,  and  drink  it  off.  Then  go  straight  to 
bed." 

"Shall  I  have  any  dreams?"  I  inquired  with  a  little  anxiety. 

"Certainly  not,"  replied  Heliobas,  smiling.  "I  wish  you  to 
sleep  as  soundly  as  a  year-old  child.  Dreams  are  not  for  you 
to-night.  Can  you  come  to  me  to-morrow  afternoon  at  five 
o'clock?  If  you  can  arrange  to  stay  to  dinner,  my  sister  will 
be  pleased  to  meet  you;  but  pcrbaps  you  are  otherwise  en- 
gaged?" 

I  told  him  I  was  not,  and  explained  where  I  had  taken 
rooms,  adding  that  I  had  co^^ie  to  Paris  expressly  to  put  my- 
self under  his  treatment. 

"'You  shall  have  no  cause  to  regret  this  Journey,"  he  said 
earnestly.  "I  can  cure  you  thoroughly,  and  T  will.  I  forget 
your  nationality — you  are  not  English?" 


G8  A    ROMANCE    OF  TWO   WORLDS. 

"No,  not  entirely.    I  am  half  Italian." 

"Ah,  yes!  I  remember  now.  But  you  have  been  educated 
in  England?" 

"Partly." 

"I  am  glad  it  is  only  partly,"  remarked  Heliobas.  "If  it 
had  been  entirely,  your  improvisations  would  have  had  no 
chance.  In  fact  you  never  would  have  improvised.  You 
would  have  played  the  piano  like  poor  mechanical  Arabella 
Goddard.  As  it  is,  there  is  some  hope  of  originality  in  you — • 
you  need  not  be  one  of  the  rank  and  file  unless  you  choose." 

"I  do  not  choose,"  I  said. 

"Well,  but  you  must  take  the  consequences,  and  they  are 
bitter.  A  woman  who  does  not  go  with  her  time  is  voted 
eccentric;  a  woman  who  prefers  music  to  tea  and  scandal  is  an 
undesirable  acquaintance;  and  a  woman  who  prefers  Byron  to 
Austin  Dobson  is — in  fact,  no  measure  can  gauge  her  general 
impossibility!" 

I  laughed  gaily.  "I  will  take  all  the  consequences  as  will- 
ingly as  I  will  take  your  medicines,"  I  said,  stretching  out  my 
hand  for  the  little  vases  which  he  gave  me  wrapped  in  paper. 
"And  I  thank  you  very  much,  monsieur.  And" — here  I 
hesitated.  Ought  I  not  to  ask  him  his  fee?  Surely  the  medi- 
cines ought  to  be  paid  for? 

Heliobas  appeared  to  read  my  thoughts,  for  he  said,  as 
though  answering  my  unuttered  question : 

"I  do  not  accept  fees,  mademoiselle.  To  relieve  your  mind 
from  any  responsibility  of  gratitude  to  me,  I  will  tell  you  at 
once  that  I  never  promise  to  effect  a  cure  unless  I  see  that 
the  person  who  comes  to  be  cured  has  a  certain  connection 
with  myself.  If  the  connection  exists  I  am  bound  by  fixed 
laws  to  serve  him  or  her.  Of  course  I  am  able  also  to  cure  those 
who  are  not  by  nature  connected  with  me;  but  then  I  have  to 
establish  a  connection,  and  this  takes  time,  and  is  sometimes 
very  difficult  to  accomplish,  almost  as  tremendous  a  task  as 
the  laying  down  of  the  Atlantic  cable.  But  in  your  case  I  am 
actually  compelled  to  do  my  best  for  you,  so  you  need  be  under 
no  sense  of  obligation." 

Here  was  a  strange  speech — the  first  really  inexplicable  one 
I  had  heard  from  his  lijjs. 

"I  am  connected  with  you?"  I  asked,  surprised.  "How?  In 
what  way?" 

"It  would  take  too  long  to  explain  to  you  Just  now,"  said 


A  ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS.  69 

Heliobas  gently;  "but  I  can  prove  to  you  in  a  moment  that 
a  connection  does  exist  between  your  inner  self  and  my  inner 
self,  if  you  wish  it." 

"I  do  wish  it  very  much,"  I  answered. 

"Then  take  my  hand,"  continued  Ileliobas,  stretching  it 
out,  "and  look  steadily  at  me." 

I  obeyed,  half  trembling.  As  I  gazed,  a  veil  appeared  to  fall 
from  my  eyes.  A  sense  of  security,  of  comfort,  and  of  absolute 
confidence  came  upon  me,  and  I  saw  what  might  be  termed  the 
image  of  another  face  looking  at  me  through  or  behind  the 
actual  form  and  face  of  Heliobas.  And  that  other  face  was 
his,  and  yet  not  his;  but  whatever  it  appeared  to  be,  it  was  the 
face  of  a  friend  to  me,  one  that  I  was  certain  I  had  known 
long,  long  ago,  and  moreover  one  that  I  must  have  loved 
in  some  distant  time,  for  my  whole  soul  seemed  to  yearn 
towards  that  indistinct  haze  where  smiled  the  fully  recognized 
yet  unfamiliar  countenance.  This  strange  sensation  lasted 
but  a  few  seconds,  for  Heliobas  suddenly  dropped  my  hand. 
The  room  swam  round  me;  the  Avails  seemed  to  rock;  then 
everything  steadied  and  came  right  again,  and  all  was  as  usual, 
only  I  was  amazed  and  bewildered. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  I  murmured. 

"It  means  the  simplest  thing  in  nature,"  replied  Heliobas 
quietly,  "namely,  that  your  soul  and  mine  are  for  some  reason 
or  other  placed  on  the  same  circle  of  electricity.  Nothing 
more  nor  less.  Therefore  we  must  serve  each  other.  What- 
ever I  do  for  you,  you  have  it  in  your  power  to  repay  me  amply 
for  hereafter." 

I  met  the  steady  glance  of  his  keen  eyes,  and  a  sense  of  some 
indestructible  force  within  me  gave  me  a  sudden  courage. 

"Decide  for  me  as  you  please,"  I  answered  fearlessly.  "I 
trust  you  completely,  though  I  do  not  know  why  I  do  so." 

"You  will  know  before  long.  You  are  satisfied  of  the  fact 
that  my  touch  can  influence  you?" 

"Yes;  most  thoroughly." 

"Very  well.  All  other  explanations,  if  you  desire  them, 
shall  be  given  you  in  due  time.  In  the  power  I  possess  over 
you  and  some  others,  there  is  neither  mesmerism  nor  mag- 
netism— nothing  but  a  purely  scientific  fact  which  can  be 
clearly  and  reasonably  proved  and  demonstrated.  But  till  you 
are  thoroughly  restored  to  health,  we  will  defer  all  discussion. 


10  A  Romance^  op'  two  avorlds. 

And  now,  madeinoiselle,  permit  me  to  escort  30 u  to  tJie  dour. 
I  shall  expect  you  to-morrow." 

Together  we  left  the  beautiful  room  in  which  this  interview 
had  taken  place,  and  crossed  the  hall.  As  we  approached  the 
entrance,  Heliobas  turned  towards  me  and  said  with  a  smile: 

"Did  not  the  maneuvers  of  my  street-door  astonish  you  ?" 

"A  little,"  I  confessed. 

"It  is  very  simple.  The  button  you  touch  outside  is  electric ; 
it  opens  the  door  and  at  the  same  time  rings  the  bell  in  my 
study,  thus  informing  me  of  a  visitor.  When  the  visitor  steps 
across  the  threshold  lie  treads,  wlietlier  lie  will  or  no,  on 
another  apparatus,  which  closes  the  door  behind  him  and  rings 
another  bell  in  my  page's  room,  who  immediately  comes  to  mo 
for  orders.  A"ou  see  how  easy?  And  from  within  it  is  man- 
aged in  almost  the  same  manner." 

And  he  touched  a  handle  similar  to  the  one  outside,  and  the 
door  opened  instantly.  Heliobas  held  out  his  hand — that 
hand  which  a  few  minutes  previously  had  exercised  such 
strange  authority  over  me. 

"Good-bye,  mademoiselle.    You  are  not  afraid  of  me  now?" 

1  laughed.  "I  do  not  think  I  was  ever  really  afraid  of  you," 
I  said.  "If  I  was,  I  am  not  so  any  longer.  You  have  promised 
me  health,  and  that  promise  is  sufficient  to  give  me  entire 
courage." 

"That  is  well,"  said  Heliobas,  "Courage  and  hope  in  them- 
selves are  the  precursors  of  physical  and  mental  energy,  lie- 
member  to-morrow  at  five,  and  do  not  keep  late  hours  to-night. 
I  should  advise  you  to  be  in  bed  by  ten  at  the  latest." 

I  agreed  to  this,  and  we  shook  hands  and  parted.  I  walked 
blithely  along,  back  to  the  iVvenue  du  Midi,  where,  on  my 
arrival  indoors,  I  found  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Evcrard.  She 
Avrote  "in  haste"  to  give  me  the  names  of  some  friends  of  hers 
Avhom  she  had  discovered,  through  the  "American  Register," 
to  be  staying  at  the  Grand  Hotel.  She  begged  me  to  call  upon 
tbem,  and  enclosed  two  letters  of  introduction  for  the  purpose. 
She  conclufled  her  e])istlc  by  snying: 

"Raffaello  Cellini  has  been  invisible  ever  since  your  departure, 
but  our  Inimitable  waiter,  Alphonse,  says  he  is  very  busy  finish- 
ing a  picture  for  the  Salon — something  that  we  have  never  seen. 
I  shall  intrude  myself  into  his  studio  soon  on  some  pretense  or 
other,  and  will  then  let  you  know  all  about  it.  In  the  meantime, 
believe  me,  "Your  ever  devoted  friend, 

"Amy." 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  71 

I  answered  this  letter,  and  then  spent  a  pleasant  evening  at 
the  Pension,  chatting  sociably  with  Madame  Denise  and 
another  cheery  little  Frenchwoman,  a  day  governess,  who 
boarded  there,  and  who  had  no  end  of  droll  experiences  to 
relate,  her  enviable  temperament  being  to  always  see  the 
li amorous  side  of  life.  I  thoroughly  enjoyed  her  sparkling 
chatter  and  her  expressive  gesticulations,  and  we  all  three 
made  ourselves  merry  till  bedtime.  Acting  on  the  advice  of 
Ileliobas,  I  retired  early  to  my  room,  where  a  warm  bath  had 
been  prepared  in  compliance  with  my  orders.  I  uncorked  the 
glass  tube  Ko.  1,  and  poured  the  colorless  fluid  it  contained 
into  the  water,  which  immediately  bubbled  gently,  as  though 
beginning  to  boil.  After  watching  it  for  a  minute  or  two,  and 
observing  that  this  seething  movement  steadily  continued,  I 
undressed  quickly  and  stepped  in.  Xever  shall  I  forget  the 
exquisite  sensation  I  experienced!  I  can  only  describe  it  as  the 
poor  little  Doll's  Dressmaker  in  "Our  Mutual  Friend"  de- 
scribed her  angel  visitants,  her  '"blessed  children,"  who  used 
to  come  and  "take  her  up  and  make  her  light."  If  my  body 
bad  been  composed  of  no  grosser  matter  than  fire  and  air,  I 
could  not  have  felt  more  weightless,  more  buoyant,  more  thor- 
oughly exhilarated  than  when,  at  tlie  end  of  the  prescribed  five 
minutes,  I  got  out  of  that  marvelous  bath  of  healing!  As  I 
ju-epared  for  bed,  I  noticed  that  the  bubbling  of  the  water 
liad  entirely  ceased;  but  this  was  easy  of  comprehension,  for  if 
it  had  contained  electricity,  as  I  supposed,  my  body  had  ab- 
sorbed it  by  contact,  which  would  account  for  the  movement 
being  stilled.  I  now  took  the  second  little  phial,  and  prepared 
it  as  I  ha'd  been  told.  This  time  the  fluid  was  motionless.  I 
noticed  it  was  very  faintly  tinged  with  amber.  I  drank  it  off — 
it  was  perfectly  tasteless.  Once  in  bed,  I  seemed  to  have  no 
power  to  think  any  more — my  eyes  closed  readily — the  slum- 
ber of  a  year-old  child,  as  Heliobas  had  said,  came  upon  me 
with  resistless  and  sudden  force,  and  I  remembered  no  more. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ZARA  AND  PRINCE   IVAN. 

The  sun  poured  brilliantly  into  my  room  when  I  awoke  the 
next  morning.  I  was  free  from  all  my  customary  aches  and 
pains,  and  a  delightful  sense  of  vigor  and  elasticity  pervaded 


72  A   ROMANCE    OP    TWO   WORLDS. 

my  frame.  I  rose  at  once,  and,  looking  at  my  watcli,  found 
to  my  amazement  that  it  was  twelve  o'clock  in  the  day!  Hastily 
throwing  on  my  dressing-gown,  I  rang  the  bell,  and  the  ser- 
vant appeared. 

"Is  it  actually  mid-day?"  I  asked  her.  "Why  did  you  not 
call  me?'' 

The  girl  smiled  apologetically, 

"I  did  knock  at  mademoiselle's  door,  but  she  gave  mc  no 
answer.  Madame  Denise  came  up  also,  and  entered  the  room; 
but  seeing  mademoiselle  in  so  sound  a  sleep,  she  said  it  was  a 
pity  to  disturb  mademoiselle." 

Which  statement  good  Madame  Denise,  toiling  upstairs  just 
then  with  difficulty,  she  being  stout  and  short  of  breath,  con- 
firmed with  many  smiling  nods  of  her  head. 

"Breakfast  shall  be  served  at  the  instant,"  she  said,  rubbing 
her  fat  hands  together;  "but  to  disturb  you  when  you  slept — 
ah.  Heaven!  the  sleep  of  an  infant — I  could  not  do  it.  I 
should  have  been  wicked!" 

I  thanked  her  for  her  care  of  me;  I  could  have  kissed  her, 
she  looked  so  motherly,  and  kind,  and  altogether  lovable.  And 
1  felt  so  merry  and  well!  She  and  the  servant  retired  to  pre- 
pare my  cofl'ee,  and  I  proceeded  to  make  my  toilette.  As  I 
brushed  out  my  hair  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  violin.  Someone 
was  playing  next  door.  I  listened,  and  recognized  a  famous 
Beethoven  Concerto.  The  unseen  musician  played  brilliantly 
and  withal  tenderly,  both  touch  and  tone  reminding  me  of 
some  beautiful  verses  in  a  book  of  poems  I  had  recently  read, 
called  "Love-Letters  of  a  Violinist,"  in  which  the  poet  *  talks 
of  his  "loved  Amati,"  and  says: 

"I  prayed  my  prayer.     I  wove  into  my  song 

Fervor,  and  joy,  and  mystery,  and  the  bleak, 
The  wan  despair  that  words  could  never  speak. 
I  prayed  as  if  my  spirit  did  belong 
To  some  old  master  who  was  wise  and  strong, 
Because  he  lov'd  and  suffered,  and  was  weak. 

"I  trill'd  the  notes,  and  curb'd  them  to  a  sigh, 

And  when  they  falter'd  most,  I  made  them  leap 
Fierce  from  my  bow,  as  from  a  summer  sleep 
A  young  she-devil.     I  was  fired  thei'eby 
To  bolder  efforts — and  a  muffled  cry 
Came  from  the  strings  as  if  a  saint  did  weep. 


*Author  of  the  equally  beautiful  idyl,  "Gladys  the  Singer,"  in- 
cluded in  the  new  American  copyright  edition  just  issued, 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  73 

"I  changed  the  theme.    I  dallied  with  the  bow 
Just  time  enough  to  fit  it  to  a  mesh 
Of  merry  tones,  and  drew  it  back  afresh, 
To  talk  of  truth,  and  constancy,  and  woe. 

And  life,  and  love,  and  madness,  and  the  glow 
Of  mine  own  soul  which  burns  into  my  flesh." 

All  my  love  for  music  welled  freslil}'  up  in  my  heart;  I, 
who  had  felt  disinclined  to  touch  the  piano  for  months,  now 
longed  to  try  my  strength  again  upon  the  familiar  and  respon- 
sive key-board.  For  a  piano  has  never  been  a  mere  piano  to 
me;  it  is  a  friend  who  answers  to  my  thought,  and  whose  notes 
meet  my  fingers  with  caressing  readiness  and  obedience. 

Breakfast  came,  and  I  took  it  with  great  relish.  Then,  to 
pass  the  day,  I  went  out  and  called  on  Mrs.  Everard's  friends, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Challoner  and  their  daughters.  I  found  them 
very  agreeable,  with  that  easy  bonhomie  and  lack  of  stiffness 
that  distinguishes  the  best  ^Vmericans.  Finding  out  through 
Mrs.  Everard's  letter  that  I  was  an  "artiste,"  they  at  once  con- 
cluded I  must  need  support  and  patronage,  and  with  impulsive 
large-heartedness  were  beginning  to  plan  as  to  the  best  means 
of  organizing  a  concert  for  me.  I  was  taken  by  surprise  at  this, 
for  I  had  generally  found  the  exact  reverse  of  this  sympathy 
among  English  patrons  of  art,  who  were  never  tired  of  mur- 
muring the  usual  platitudes  about  there  being  "so  many  musi- 
cians," "music  was  overdone,"  "improvising  was  not  under- 
stood or  cared  for,"  etc.,  etc. 

But  these  agreeable  Americans,  as  soon  as  they  discovered 
that  I  had  not  come  for  any  professional  reason  to  Paris,  but 
only  to  consult  a  physician  about  my  health,  were  actually  dis- 
appointed. 

"Oh,  we  shall  persuade  you  to  give  a  recital  some  time!" 
persisted  the  handsome  smiling  mother  of  the  family.  "I 
know  lots  of  people  in  Paris.    We'll  get  it  up  for  you!" 

I  protested,  half  laughing,  that  I  had  no  idea  of  the  kind, 
but  they  were  incorrigibly  generous. 

"Nonsense!"  said  Mrs.  Challoner,  arranging  her  diamond 
rings  on  her  pretty  white  hand  with  pardonable  pride.  "Brains 
don't  go  for  nothing  in  our  country.  As  soon  as  you  are  fixed 
up  in  health,  we'll  give  you  a  grand  soiree  in  Paris,  and  we'll 
work  up  all  our  folks  in  the  place.  Don't  tell  me  you  are  not 
as  glad  of  dollars  as  any  one  of  us." 

"Dollars  arc  very  good,"  I  admitted,  "but  real  appreciation 
is  far  better." 


74  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

"Well,  you  shall  have  Loth  from  us,"  said  Mrs.  Challoner. 
"And  now,  will  3'OU  stop  to  luncheon?" 

I  accepted  this  invitation,  given  as  it  was  with  the  most 
friendly  affability,  and  enjoyed  myself  very  much. 

"You  don't  look  ill,"  said  the  eldest  Miss  Challoner  to  me, 
later  on.    "I  don't  see  that  you  want  a  physician." 

"Oh,  I  am  getting  much  better  now,"  I  replied;  "and  I 
hope  soon  to  be  quite  well." 

"Who's  your  doctor?" 

I  hesitated.  Somehow  the  name  of  Heliobas  would  not 
come  to  my  lips.  Fortunately  Mrs.  Challoner  diverted  her 
daughter's  attention  at  this  moment  by  the  announcement 
that  a  dressmaker  was  waiting  to  see  her;  and  in  the  face  of 
such  an  important  visit,  no  one  remembered  to  ask  me  again 
the  name  of  my  medical  adviser. 

I  left  the  Grand  Hotel  in  good  time  to  prepare  for  my  sec- 
ond visit  to  Heliobas.  As  I  was  going  there  to  dinner  I  made 
a  slightly  dressy  toilette,  if  a  black  silk  robe  relieved  with  a 
cluster  of  pale  pink  roses  can  be  called  dress3^  This  time  I 
drove  to  the  Hotel  Mars,  dismissing  the  coachman,  however, 
before  ascending  the  steps.  The  door  opened  and  closed  as 
usual,  and  the  first  person  I  saw  in  the  hall  was  Heliobas  him- 
self, seated  in  one  of  the  easy-chairs,  reading  a  volume  of  Plato. 
He  rose  and  greeted  me  cordially.  Before  I  could  speak  a 
word,  he  said: 

"You  need  not  tell  me  that  you  slept  well.  I  see  it  in  your 
eyes  and  face.    You  feel  better?" 

My  gratitude  to  him  was  so  great  that  I  found  it  difficult 
to  express  my  thanks.  Tears  rushed  to  my  eyes,  yet  I  tried  (o 
smile,  though  I  could  not  speak.  He  saw  my  emotion,  and 
continued  kindly: 

"I  am  as  thankful  as  you  can  be  for  the  cure  which  I  see  has 
begun,  and  will  soon  be  effected.  My  sister  is  waiting  to  see 
you.    Will  you  come  to  her  room?" 

We  ascended  a  flight  of  stairs  thickly  carpeted,  and  bordered 
on  each  side  by  tropical  ferns  and  flowers,  placed  in  exquisitely 
painted  china  pots  and  vases.  I  heard  the  distant  singing  of 
many  birds  mingled  with  the  ripple  and  plash  of  waters.  We 
reached  a  landing  where  the  afterglow  of  the  set  sun  streamed 
through  a  high  orio^l  window  of  richly  stained  glass.  Turning 
towards  the  left,  Heliobas  drew  aside  the  folds  of  some  aznre 
satin  hangings,  and  callihg  in  a  low  voice  "Zar.a!"  motioned 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  75 

1110  to  enter.  I  stepped  into  a  spacious  and  lofty  apartment 
where  the  light  seemed  to  soften  and  merge  into  many  shades 
of  opaline  radiance  and  delicacy — a  room  the  beauty  of  which 
would  at  any  other  time  have  astonished  and  delighted  me, 
but  which  now  appeared  as  nothing  beside  the  surpassing  love- 
liness of  the  woman  who  occupied  it.  Never  shall  I  behold 
again  any  face  or  form  so  divinely  beautiful!  She  was  about 
the  medium  height  of  women,  but  her  small  finely-shaped 
head  was  set  upon  so  slender  and  proud  a  throat  that  she  ap- 
peared taller  than  she  actually  was.  Her  figure  was  most  ex- 
quisitely rounded  and  proportioned,  and  she  came  across  the 
room  to  give  me  greeting  with  a  sort  of  gliding  graceful  move- 
ment, like  that  of  a  stately  swan  floating  on  calm  sunlit  water. 
}\qv  complexion  was  transparently  clear — most  purely  white, 
most  delicately  rosy.  Her  eyes — large,  luminous  and  dark  as 
night,  fringed  with  long  silky  black  lashes — looked  like 

"Fairy  lakes,  where  tender  thoughts 
Swam  softly  to  and  fro." 

Her  rich  black  hair  was  arranged  a  la  Marguerite,  and  hung 
down  in  one  long  loose  thick  braid  that  nearly  reached  the 
end  of  her  dress;  and  she  was  attired  in  a  robe  of  deep  old  gold 
Indian  silk  as  soft  as  cashmere,  which  was  gathered  in  round 
her  waist  by  an  antique  belt  of  curious  jewel-work,  in  which 
rubies  and  turquoises  seemed  to  be  thickly  studded.  On  her 
bosom  shone  a  strange  gem,  the  color  and  form  of  which  I 
could  not  determine.  It  was  never  the  same  for  two  minutes 
together.  It  glowed  with  many  various  hues — now  bright 
crimson,  now  lightning-blue,  sometimes  deepening  into  a  rich 
purple  or  tawny  orange.  Its  lustre  was  intense,  almost  daz- 
zling to  the  eye.  Its  beautiful  wearer  gave  me  welcome  with 
a  radiant  smile  and  a  few  cordial  words,  and  drawing  me  by 
the  hand  to  the  low  couch  she  had  just  vacated,  made  me  sit 
down  beside  her.    Heliobas  had  disappeared. 

"And  so,"  said  Zara — how  soft  and  full  of  music  was  her 
voice! — "so  you  are  one  of  Casimir's  patients?  I  cannot  help 
considering  that  you  are  fortunate  in  this,  for  I  know  my 
brother's  power.  If  he  says  he  will  cure  you,  you  may  be  sure 
he  means  it.    And  you  are  already  better,  are  you  not?" 

''Much  better."  T  said,  looking  earnestly  into  the  lovely  star- 
like  eyes  that  regarded  me  with  such  interest  and  friendliness. 


70  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"Indeed,  to-day  I  have  felt  so  well,  that  I  cannot  realize  ever 
having  been  ill." 

"I  am  very  glad,"  said  Zara,  "I  know  you  are  a  musician, 
and  I  think  there  can  be  no  bitterer  fate  than  for  one  belong- 
ing to  your  art  to  be  incapacitated  from  performance  of  work 
by  some  physical  obstacle.  Poor  grand  old  Beethoven!  Can 
anything  be  more  pitiful  to  think  of  than  his  deafness?  Yet 
how  splendidly  he  bore  up  against  it!  And  Chopin,  too — so 
delicate  in  health  that  he  was  too  often  morbid  even  in  his 
music.  Strength  is  needed  to  accomplish  great  things — the 
double  strength  of  body  and  soul." 

"Are  you,  too,  a  musician?"  I  inquired. 

"No.  I  love  music  passionately,  and  I  play  a  little  on  the 
organ  in  our  private  chapel;  but  I  follow  a  different  art  alto- 
gether. I  am  a  mere  imitator  of  noble  form — I  am  a  sculp- 
tress." 

"You?"  I  said  in  some  wonder,  looking  at  the  very  small, 
beautifully  formed  white  hand  that  lay  passively  on  the  edge 
of  the  couch  beside  me.  "You  make  statues  in  marble  like 
Michael  Angelo?" 

"Like  Angelo?"  murmured  Zara;  and  she  lowered  her  brill- 
iant eyes  with  a  reverential  gravity.  "No  one  in  these  modern 
days  can  approach  the  immortal  splendor  of  that  great  master. 
He  must  have  known  heroes  and  talked  wdth  gods  to  be  able 
to  hew  out  of  the  rocks  such  perfection  of  shape  and  attitude 
as  his  'David.'  Alas!  my  strength  of  brain  and  hand  is  mere 
child's  play  compared  to  what  has  been  done  in  sculpture,  and 
what  will  yet  be  done;  still,  I  love  the  Avork  for  its  own  sake, 
and  I  am  always  trying  to  render  a  resemblance  of " 

Here  she  broke  off  abruptly,  and  a  deep  blush  suffused  her 
cheeks.  Then,  looking  up  suddenly,  she  took  my  hand  im- 
pulsively, and  pressed  it. 

"Be  my  friend,"  she  said,  with  a  caressing  inflection  in  her 
rich  voice.  "I  have  no  friends  of  my  own  sex,  and  I  wish  to 
lovo  you.  My  brother  has  always  had  so  mucli  distrust  of  the 
companionship  of  women  for  me.  You  know  his  theories;  and 
he  has  always  asserted  that  the  sphere  of  thought  in  which  I 
have  lived  all  my  life  is  so  widely  apart  from  those  in  which 
other  women  exist — that  nothing  but  unhappiness  for  me 
could  come  out  of  associating  us  together.  When  he  told  me 
yesterday  that  you  were  coming  to  see  me  to-day,  I  knew  he 
must  have  discovered  soiTiethino;  in  vour  nature  that  was  not 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS.  77 

antipathetic  to  mine;  otherwise  he  would  not  have  brought 
you  to  me.  Do  you  tliink  you  can  like  me? — perhaps  love  me 
after  a  little  while?" 

It  would  have  been  a  cold  heart  indeed  that  would  not  have 
responded  to  such  a  speech  as  this,  uttered  with  the  pleading 
prettiness  of  a  loving  child.  Besides,  I  had  warmed  to  her 
from  the  first  moment  I  had  touched  her  hand;  and  I  was 
overjoyed  to  think  tlfat  she  was  willing  to  elect  me  as  a  friend. 
I  therefore  replied  to  her  words  by  putting  my  arm  affection- 
ately round  her  waist  and  kissing  her.  My  beautiful,  tender 
Zara!  How  innocently  happy  she  seemed  to  be  thus  embraced! 
and  how  gently  her  fragrant  lips  met  mine  in  that  sisterly 
caress!  She  leaned  her  dark  head  for  a  moment  on  my  shoul- 
der, and  the  mysterious  jewel  on  her  breast  flashed  into  a  weird 
red  hue  like  the  light  of  a  stormy  sunset. 

"And  now  we  have  drawn  up,  signed,  and  sealed  our  com- 
])act  of  friendship,"  she  said  gaily,  "will  you  come  and  see  my 
studio?  There  is  nothing  in  it  that  deserves  to  last,  I  think; 
still,  one  has  patience  with  a  child  when  he  builds  his  brick 
houses,  and  you  must  have  equal  patience  with  me.    Come!" 

And  she  led  the  way  through  her  lovely  room,  which  I  now 
noticed  was  full  of  delicate  statuary,  fine  paintings,  and  ex- 
(piisite  embroidery,  while  llowers  were  everywhere  in  abund- 
ance. Lifting  the  hangings  at  the  farther  end  of  the  apart- 
inent,  she  passed,  I  following,  into  a  lofty  studio,  filled  with 
all  the  appurtenances  of  the  sculptor's  art.  Here  and  there 
were  the  usual  spectral  effects  which  are  always  suggested  to 
the  mind  by  unfinished  plaster  models — an  arm  in  one  place, 
a  head  in  another;  a  torso,  or  a  single  hand,  protruding  ghost- 
like from  a  fold  of  dark  drapery.  At  the  very  end  of  the  room 
stood  a  large  erect  figure,  the  outlines  of  which  could  but 
dimly  be  seen  through  its  linen  coverings;  and  to  this  work, 
whatever  it  was,  Zara  did  not  appear  desirous  of  attracting 
my  attention.  She  led  me  to  one  particular  corner;  and, 
throwing  aside  a  small  crimson  velvet  curtain,  said: 

"This  is  the  last  thing  I  have  finished  in  marble.  I  call  it 
'Approaching  Evening.' " 

I  stood  silently  before  the  statue,  lost  in  admiration.  I 
could  not  conceive  it  possible  that  the  fragile  little  hand  of  the 
woman  who  stood  beside  me  could  have  executed  such  a  per- 
fect work.  She  had  depicted  "Evening"  as  a  beautiful  nude 
female  figure  in  the  act  of  stepping  forward  on  tip-toe;  the 


78  A   ROMANCE    OP    TWO   WORLDS. 

eyes  were  lialf  closed,  and  the  sweet  month  slightly  parted  in 
a  dreamily  serious  smile.  The  right  forefinger  was  laid  lightly 
on  the  lips,  as  though  suggesting  silence;  and  in  the  left  hand 
was  loosely  clasped  a  bunch  of  poppies.  That  was  all.  But  the 
poetry  and  force  of  the  whole  conception  as  carried  out  in  the 
statue  was  marvellous. 

"Do  you  like  it?''  asked  Zara,  half  timidly. 

"Like  it!"  I  exclaimed.  "It  is  lovely — wonderful!  It  is 
worthy  to  rank  with  the  finest  Italian  masterpieces." 

"Oh,  no!"  remonstrated  Zara;  "no,  indeed!  When  the 
great  Italian  sculptors  lived  and  worked — ah!  one  may  say 
with  the  Scriptures,  'There  were  giants  in  those  days.'  Giants 
— veritable  ones;  and  we  modernists  are  the  pigmies.  We 
can  only  see  Art  now  through  the  eyes  of  others  who  came 
before  us.  We  cannot  create  anything  new.  We  look  at 
painting  through  Eaphael;  sculpture  through  Angelo;  poetry 
through  Shakespeare;  philosophy  through  Plato.  It  is  all 
done  for  us;  we  are  copyists.  The  world  is  getting  old — how 
glorious  to  have  lived  when  it  was  young!  But  nowadays  the 
very  children  are  blase." 

"And  you — are  not  you  blase  to  talk  like  that,  with  your 
genius  and  all  tlie  world  before  you?"  I  asked  laughingly, 
slipping  my  arm  through  hers.    "Come,  confess!" 

Zara  looked  at  me  gravely. 

"I  sincerely  hope  the  world  is  not  all  before  me,"  she 
said;  "I  should  be  very  sorry  if  I  thought  so.  To  have  the 
world  all  before  you  in  the  general  acceptation  of  that  term 
means  to  live  long,  to  barter  whatever  genius  you  have  for 
gold,  to  hear  the  fulsome  and  unmeaning  flatteries  of  the  ig- 
norant, who  are  as  ready  with  condenmation  as  praise — to  be 
envied  and  maligned  by  those  less  lucky  than  you  are.  Heaven 
defend  me  from  such  a  fate!" 

She  spoke  with  earnestness  and  solemnity;  then,  dropping 
the  curtain  before  her  statue,  turned  away.  I  was  admiring 
the  vine- wreathed  head  of  a  young  Bacchante  that  stood  on  a 
pedestal  near  me,  and  was  about  to  ask  Zara  what  subject  she 
had  chosen  for  the  large  veiled  figure  at  the  farthest  end 
of  her  studio,  when  we  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
the  little  Greek  page  whom  I  had  seen  on  my  first  visit  to  the 
house.  He  saluted  us  both,  and  addressing  himself  to  Zara, 
said: 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  79 

'"Monsieur  le  Comtc  desires  me  to  tell  you,  madame,  that 
Prince  Ivan  will  be  present  at  dinner." 

Zara  looked  somewluit  vexed;  but  the  shade  of  annoyance 
ililted  away  from  her  fair  face  like  a  passing  shadow,  as  she 
replied  quietly: 

"Tell  Monsieur  le  Comte,  my  brother,  that  I  shall  be  happy 
to  receive  Prince  Ivan." 

The  page  bowed  deferentially  and  departed.  Zara  turned 
round,  and  I  saw  the  jewel  on  her  breast  flashing  with  a  steely 
glitter  like  the  blade  of  a  sharp  sword. 

"1  do  not  like  Prince  Ivan  myself,"  she  said;  ''but  he  is  a 
singularly  brave  and  resolute  man,andCasimir  has  some  reason 
for  admitting  him  to  our  companionship.    Though  I  greatly 

doubt  if "     Here  a  flood  of  music  broke  upon  our  ears 

like  the  sound  of  a  distant  orchestra.  Zara  looked  at  me 
and  smiled.  "Dinner  is  ready!"  she  announced;  "but  you 
must  not  imagine  that  we  keep  a  band  to  play  ns  to  our 
table  in  triumph.  It  is  simply  a  musical  instrument  worked 
by  electricity  that  imitates  the  orchestra;  both  Casimir  and  I 
prefer  it  to  a  gong!" 

And  slipping  her  arm  affectionately  through  mine,  she 
drew  me  from  the  studio  into  the  passage,  and  together  we 
■went  down  the  staircase  into  a  large  dining-room,  rich  with 
oil-paintings  and  carved  oak,  where  Heliobas  awaited  us. 
Close  by  him  stood  another  gentleman,  who  was  introduced 
to  me  as  Prince  Ivan  Petrofl'sky.  He  was  a  fine-looking,  hand- 
some-featured young  man,  of  about  thirty,  tall  and  broad- 
shouldered,  though  beside  the  commanding  stature  of  Helio- 
bas, his  figure  did  not  show  to  so  much  advantage  as  it  might 
have  done  beside  a  less  imposing  contrast.  He  bowed  to  me 
with  easy  and  courteous  grace;  but  his  deeply  reverential  sa- 
lute to  Zara  had  something  in  it  of  that  humility  which  a  slave 
might  render  to  a  queen.  She  bent  her  head  slightly  in  an- 
swer, and  still  holding  me  by  the  hand,  moved  to  her  seat  at 
thel)ottora  of  the  table,  while  her  brother  took  the  head.  ^ly 
seat  was  at  the  right  hand  of  Heliobas,  Prince  Ivan's  at  the 
left,  so  that  we  directly  faced  each  other. 

There  were  two  men-servants  in  attendance,  dressed  in  dark 
livery,  who  waited  upon  us  with  noiseless  alacrity.  The  din- 
ner was  exceedingly  choice;  there  was  nothing  coarse  or  vul- 
gar in  the  dishes — no  great  heavy  joints  swimming  in  thin 
gravy  a  rAnglaise;  no  tureens  of  unpalatable  sauce;  no  cluni- 


80  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

By  decanters  filled  with  burning  sherry  or  drowsy  port.  The 
table  itself  was  laid  out  in  the  most  perfect  taste,  with  the 
finest  Venetian  glass  and  old  Dresden  ware,  in  which  tempt- 
ing fruits  gleamed  amid  clusters  of  glossy  dark  leaves.  Flow- 
ers in  tall  vases  bloomed  wherever  they  could  be  placed  ef-' 
fectively;  and  in  the  centre  of  the  board  a  small  fountain 
played,  tinkling  as  it  rose  and  fell  like  a  very  faintly  echoing 
fairy  chime.  The  wines  that  were  served  to  us  were  most  de- 
licious, though  their  flavor  was  quite  unknown  to  me — one  in 
especial,  of  a  pale  pink  color,  that  sparkled  slightly  as  it  was 
poured  into  my  glass,  seemed  to  me  a  kind  of  nectar  of  the 
gods,  so  soft  it  was  to  the  palate.  The  conversation,  at  first 
somewhat  desultory,  grew  more  concentrated  as  the  time  went 
on,  though  Zara  spoke  little  and  seemed  absorbed  in  her  own 
thoughts  more  than  once.  The  Prince,  warmed  with  the 
wine  and  the  general  good  cheer,  became  witty  and  amusing 
in  his  conversation;  he  Avas  a  man  who  had  evidently  seen  a 
good  deal  of  the  Avorld,  and  who  was  accustomed  to  take 
everything  in  life  a  la  hagatelle.  He  told  us  gay  stories  of  his 
life  in  St.  Petersburg;  of  the  pranks  he  had  played  in  the  Flor- 
entine Carnival;  of  his  journey  to  the  American  States,  and  his 
narrow  escape  from  the  matrimonial  clutches  of  a  Boston 
heiress. 

Heliobas  listened  to  him  with  a  sort  of  indulgent  kindness, 
only  smiling  now  and  then  at  the  preposterous  puns  the  young 
man  would  insist  on  making  at  every  opportunity  that  pre- 
sented itself. 

"You  are  a  lucky  fellow,  Ivan,"  he  said  at  last.  "You  like 
the  good  things  of  life,  and  you  have  got  them  all  without  any 
trouble  on  your  own  part.  You  are  one  of  those  men  who 
have  absolutely  nothing  to  wish  for." 

Prince  Ivan  frowned  and  pulled  his  dark  moustache  with 
no  very  satisfied  air. 

"I  am  not  so  sure  about  that,"  he  returned.  "No  one  is 
contented  in  this  world,  I  believe.  There  is  always  some- 
thing left  to  desire,  and  the  last  thing  longed  for  always 
seems  the  most  necessary  to  happiness." 

"The  truest  philosophy,"  said  Heliobas,  "is  not  to  long  for 
anything  in  particular,  but  to  accept  everything  as  it  comes, 
and  find  out  the  reason  of  its  coming." 

*^hat  do  you  mean  by  'the  reason  of  its  coming'?"  qucs- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  81 

tioned  Prince  Ivan.  "Do  you  know,  Casimir,  1  lind  you  some- 
times as  puzzling  as  Socrates." 

"Socrates? — Socrates  was  as  clear  as  a  drop  of  morning 
dew,  my  dear  fellow/'  replied  Heliobas.  "There  was  noth- 
ing puzzling  about  him.  His  remarks  were  all  true  and  trench- 
ant— hitting  smartly  home  to  the  heart  like  daggers  plunged 
down  to  the  hilt.  That  was  the  worst  of  him — he  was  too  clear 
— too  honest — too  disdainful  of  opinions.  Society  does  not 
love  such  men.  What  do  I  mean,  you  ask,  by  accepting  every- 
thing as  it  comes,  and  trying  to  find  out  the  reason  of  its 
coming?  Why,  I  mean  what  I  say.  Each  circumstance  that 
happens  to  each  one  of  us  brings  its  own  special  lesson  and 
meaning — forms  a  link  or  part  of  a  link  in  the  chain  of  our 
existence.  It  seems  nothing  to  you  that  you  walk  down  a  par- 
ticular street  at  a  particu.lar  hour,  and  yet  that  slight  action 
of  yours  maj''  lead  to  a  result  you  wot  not  of.  ^Accept  the 
hint  of  each  new  experience,'  says  the  American  imitator  of 
Plato — Emerson.  If  this  advice  is  faithfully  followed,  we  all 
have  enough  to  occupy  us  busih'  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave." 

Prince  Ivan  looked  at  Zara,  who  sat  quietly  thoughtful, 
only  lifting  her  bright  eyes  now  and  then  to  glance  at  her 
brother  as  he  spoke. 

"I  tell  you,"  he  said,  with  sudden  moroseness,  "there  are 
some  hints  that  we  cannot  accept — some  circumstances  that 
we  must  not  yield  to.  Why  should  a  man,  for  instance,  be 
subjected  to  an  undeserved  and  bitter  disappointment?" 

"Because,"  said  Zara,  joining  in  the  conversation  for  the 
first  time,  "he  has  most  likely  desired  what  he  is  not  fated  to 
obtain." 

The  Prince  bit  his  lips,  and  gave  a  forced  laugh. 

"I  know,  madame,  you  are  against  me  in  all  our  argu- 
ments," he  observed,  with  some  bitterness  in  his  tone.  "As 
Casimir  suggests,  I  am  a  bad  philosopher.  I  do  not  pretend 
to  more  than  the  ordinary  attributes  of  an  ordinary  man:  it 
is  fortunate,  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  so,  that  the  rest  of 
the  world's  inhabitants  are  very  like  me,  for  if  everyone 
reached  to  the  sublime  heights  of  science  and  knowledge  that 
you  and  your  brother  have  attaiued " 

"The  course  of  human  destiny  would  run  out,  and  Para- 
dise would  be  an  established  fact,"  laughed  Heliobas.  "Come, 
Ivan!    You  are  a  true  Epicurean.    Have  some  more  wine,  and 

6 


82  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

a  truce  to  discussions  for  the  present."    And,  beckoning  to  one 
of  the  servants,  he  ordered  the  Prince's  glass  to  be  refilled. 

Dessert  was  now  served,  and  luscious  fruits  in  profusion, 
including  peaches,  bananas,  plantains,  green  figs,  melons, 
pine-apples,  and  magnificent  grapes,  were  offered  for  our  choice 
As  I  made  a  selection  for  my  own  plate,  I  became  aware  of 
something  soft  rubbing  itself  gently  against  my  dress;  and 
looking  down,  I  saw  the  noble  head  and  dark  intelligent  eyes 
of  my  old  acquaintance  Leo,  whom  I  had  last  met  at  Cannes. 
I  gave  an  exclamation  of  pleasure,  and  the  dog,  encouraged, 
stood  up  and  laid  a  caressing  paw  on  my  arm. 

"You  know  Leo,  of  course,"  said  Heliobas,  turning  to  me. 
*'He  went  to  see  Eaffacllo  while  you  were  at  Cannes.  Jle  is 
a  wonderful  animal — more  valuable  to  me  than  his  weight  in 
gold." 

Prince  Ivan,  whose  transient  moodiness  had  passed  away 
like  a  bad  devil  exorcised  by  the  power  of  good  wine.  Joined 
heartily  in  the  praise  bestowed  on  this  four-footed  friend  of 
the  family. 

"It  was  really  through  Leo,"  he  said,  "that  you  were  in- 
duced to  follow  out  your  experiments  in  human  electricity, 
Casimir,  was  it  not?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Heliobas,  calling  the  dog,  who  went  to  him 
immediately  to  be  fondled.  "I  should  never  have  been  much 
encouraged  in  my  researches,  had  he  not  been  at  hand.  I 
feared  to  experimentalize  much  on  my  sister,  she  being  young 
at  the  time — and  women  are  always  frail  of  construction — but 
Leo  was  willing  and  ready  to  be  a  victim  to  science,  if  neces- 
sary. Instead  of  a  martyr  he  is  a  living  triumph — are  you 
not,  old  boy?"  he  continued,  stroking  the  silky  coat  of  the 
animal,  who  responded  with  a  short  low  bark  of  satisfaction. 

My  curiosity  was  much  excited  by  these  remarks,  and  I 
said  eagerly: 

"Will  you  tell  me  in  what  way  Leo  has  been  useful  to  you? 
1  have  a  great  affection  for  dogs,  and  I  never  tire  of  hearing 
stories  of  their  wonderful  intelligence." 

"I  will  certainly  tell  you,"  re])licd  Heliobas.  "To  some 
people  the  story  might  appear  improbable,  but  it  is  perfectly 
ii'ue  and  at  the  same  time  simple  of  comprehension.  When  T 
Avas  a  very  young  man,  younger  than  Prince  Ivan,  I  absorbed 
myself  in  the  study  of  electricity — its  wonderful  powers,  and 
its  various  capabilities.    From  the  consideration  oP  electricity 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  83 

in  the  different  forms  by  which  it  is  known  to  civilized  Europe, 
1  began  to  look  back  through  histor}',  to  what  are  ignorantly 
called  'tlie  dark  ages/  but  which  might  more  justly  be  termed 
the  enlightened  youth  of  the  world.  I  found  that  the  force  of 
electricity  was  well  understood  by  the  ancients — bettci-  under- 
stood by  them,  in  fact,  than  it  is  by  the  scientists  of  our  day. 
The  'Mene,  Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin'  that  glittered  in  uneartli- 
ly  characters  on  the  wall  at  Belshazzar's  feast  was  written 
by  electricity;  and  the  Chaldean  kings  and  priests  understood 
a  great  many  secrets  of  another  form  of  electric  force  which 
the  world  to-day  scoffs  at  and  almost  ignores — I  mean  human 
electricity,  which  we  all  possess,  but  which  we  do  not  all 
cultivate  within  us.  When  once  I  realized  the  existence  of  the 
fact  of  human  electric  force,  1  applied  the  discovery  to  my- 
self, and  spared  no  pains  to  foster  and  educate  whatever  germ 
of  this  power  lay  within  me.  I  succeeded  with  more  ease  and 
celerity  than  I  had  imagined  possible.  At  the  time  I  pursued 
these  studies,  Leo  here  was  quite  a  young  dog,  full  of  the 
clumsy  playfulness  and  untrained  ignorance  of  a  Newfound- 
land puppy.  One  day  I  was  very  busy  reading  an  interesting 
Sanskrit  scroll  which  treated  of  ancient  medicines  and  reme- 
dies, and  Leo  was  gambolling  in  his  awkward  way  about  the 
room,  plajdng  with  an  old  slipper  and  worrying  it  with  his 
teeth.  The  noise  he  made  irritated  and  disturbed  me,  and  I 
rose  in  my  chair  and  called  him  by  name,  somewhat  angrily. 
He  paused  in  his  game  and  looked  up — his  eyes  met  mine  ex- 
actly. His  liead  drooped;  he  shivered  uneasil}-,  whined,  and 
lay  down  motionless.  He  never  stirred  once  from  the  position 
he  had  taken,  till  I  gave_  him  permission — and  remember,  he 
was  untrained.  This  strange  behavior  led  me  to  try  other 
t'Xjteriments  with  him,  and  all  succeeded.  I  gradually  led  him 
up  to  the  point  I  desired — that  is,  I  forced  him  to  receive  my 
thought  and  act  upon  it,  as  far  as  his  canine  capabilities  could 
do,  and  he  has  never  once  failed.  It  is  sufficient  for  me  to 
strongly  will  him  to  do  a  certain  thing,  and  I  can  convey  that 
command  of  mine  to  his  brain  without  uttering  a  single  word, 
and  he  will  obey  me." 

I  suppose  I  shovred  surprise  and  incredulity  in  my  face,  for 
Heliobas  smiled  at  me  and  continued: 

"I  will  put  him  to  the  proof  at  any  time  you  like.  If  you 
wish  him  to  fetch  anything  that  he  is  physically  able  to  carry, 
and  will  write  the  name  of  whatever  it  is  on  a  slip  of  paper. 


84  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

just  for  me  to  know  what  you  require,  I  guarantee  Leo's  obedi- 
ence." 

I  looked  at  Zara,  and  slie  laughed. 

"It  seems  like  magic  to  you,  does  it  not?"  she  said;  "but  I' 
assure  you  it  is  quite  true." 

"I  am  bound  to  admit,"  said  Prince  Ivan,  "that  I  once 
doubted  both  Leo  and  his  master,  but  I  am  c|uite  converted. 
Here,  mademoiselle,"  he  continued,  handing  me  a  leaf  from 
his  pocket-book  and  a.  pencil — "write  down  something  that 
you  want;  only  don't  send  the  dog  to  Italy  on  an  errand  just 
now,  as  we  want  him  back  before  we  adjourn  to  the  draw- 
ing-room." 

I  remembered  that  I  had  left  an  embroidered  handker- 
chief on  the  couch  in  Zara's  room,  and  I  wrote  this  down  on 
the  paper,  which  I  passed  to  Heliobas.  He  glanced  at  it  and 
tore  it  up.  Leo  was  indulging  himself  with  a  bone  under  the 
table,  but  came  instantly  to  his  master's  call.  Heliobas  took 
the  dog's  head  between  his  two  hands,  and  gazed  steadily  into 
the  grave  brown  eyes  that  regarded  him  with  equal  steadi- 
ness. This  interchange  of  looks  lasted  but  a  few  seconds.  Leo 
left  the  room,  walking  with  an  unruffled  and  dignified  pace, 
while  we  awaited  his  return — Heliobas  and  Zara  with  indiffer- 
ence. Prince  Ivan  with  amusement,  and  I  with  interest  and 
expectancy.  Two  or  three  minutes  elapsed,  and  the  dog  re- 
turned with  the  same  majestic  demeanor,  carrying  between 
his  teeth  my  handkerchief.  He  came  straight  to  me  and 
placed  it  in  my  hand;  shook  himself,  wagged  his  tail,  and  con- 
veying a  perfectly  human  expression  of  satisfaction  into  his 
face,  went  under  the  table  again  to  his  bone.  I  was  utterly 
amazed,  but  at  the  same  time  convinced.  I  had  not  seen  the 
dog  since  my  arrival  in  Paris,  and  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  have  known  whgre  to  find  my  handkerchief,  or  to  recognize 
it  as  being  mine,  unless  through  the  means  Heliobas  had 
explained. 

"Can  you  command  human  beings  so?"  I  asked,  with  a 
slight  tremor  of  nervousness. 

"Not  all,"  returned  Heliobas  quietly.  "In  fact,  I  may  say, 
very  few.  Those  who  are  on  my  own  circle  of  power  I  can, 
naturally,  draw  to  or  repel  from  me;  but  those  who  are  not, 
have  to  be  treated  by  different  means.  Sometimes  cases  occur 
in  which  persons,  at  first  not  on  my  circle,  are  irresistibly  at- 
tracted to  it  by  a  force  not  mine.    Sometimes,  in  order  to  per- 


A    ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  85 

form  a  cure,  I  establish  a  communication  between  myself  and 
a  totally  alien  sphere  of  thought;  and  to  do  this  is  a  long  and 
laborious  effort.    But  it  can  be  done." 

"Then,  if  it  can  be  done/'  said  Prince  Ivan,  "why  do  you 
not  accomplish  it  for  me?" 

"Because  you  are  being  forcibly  drawn  towards  me  without 
any  effort  on  my  part,"  replied  Ileliobas,  with  one  of  his 
steady,  keen  looks.  "For  what  motive  I  cannot  at  present  de- 
termine; but  I  shall  know  as  soon  as  you  touch  the  extreme 
edge  of  my  circle.  You  are  a  long  way  off  it  yet,  but  you  are 
coming  in  spite  of  yourself,  Ivan." 

The  Prince  fidgeted  restlessly  in  his  chair,  and  toyed  with 
the  fruit  on  his  plate  in  a  nervous  manner. 

"If  I  did  not  know  you  to  be  an  absolutely  truthful  and 
honorable  man,  Casimir,"  he  said,  "I  should  tliink  you  were 
trying  to  deceive  me.  But  I  have  seen  what  you  can  do,  there- 
fore I  must  believe  you.  Still  I  confess  I  do  not  follow  you 
in  your  circle  theory." 

"To  begin  with,"  returned  Heliobas,  "the  Universe  is  a 
circle.  Everything  is  circular,  from  the  motion  of  planets 
down  to  the  human  eye,  or  the  cup  of  a  flower,  or  a  drop  of 
dew.  My  'circle  theory,'  as  you  call  it,  applied  to  human 
electric  force,  is  very  simple;  but  I  have  proved  it  to  be  math- 
ematically correct.  Every  human  being  is  provided  inter- 
nally and  externally  with  a  certain  amount  of  electricity, 
which  is  as  necessary  to  existence  as  the  life-blood  to  the 
heart  or  fresh  air  tp  the  lungs.  Internally  it  is  the  germ  of 
a  soul  or  spirit,  and  is  placed  there  to  be  either  cultivated  or 
neglected  as  suits  the  will  of  man.  It  is  indestructible;  yet, 
if  neglected,  it  remains  always  a  germ;  and, 'at  the  death  of 
the  body  it  inhabits,  goes  elsewhere  to  seek  another  chance 
of  development.  If,  on  the  contrary,  its  growth  is  fostered 
by  a  persevering,  resolute  will,  it  becomes  a  spiritual  creature, 
glorious  and  supremely  powerful,  for  which  a  new,  brilliant, 
and  endless  existence  commences  when  its  clay  chrysalis  per- 
ishes. So  much  for  the  internal  electrical  force.  The  ex- 
ternal binds  us  all  by  fixed  laws,  with  which  our  wills  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do.  Each  one  of  us  walks  the  earth 
encompassed  by  an  invisible  electric  ring — wide  or  narrow 
according  to  our  capabilities.  Sometimes  our  rings  meet 
and  form  one,  as  in  the  case  of  two  absolutely  sympathetic 
souIb,  who  labor  and  love  together  with  perfect  faith  in  each 


86  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

other.  Sometimes  they  clash,  and  storm  ensues,  as  when  a 
strong  antipathy  between  persons  causes  them  almost  to  loathe 
each  other's  presence.  All  these  human  electric  rings  are 
capable  of  attraction  and  repulsion.  If  a  man,  during  his' 
courtship  of  a  woman,  experiences  once  or  twice  a  sudden 
instinctive  feeling  that  there  is  something  in  her  nature  not 
altogether  what  he  expected  or  desired,  let  him  take  warning 
and  break  off  the  attachment;  for  the  electric  circles  do  not: 
combine,  and  nothing  but  unhappiness  would  come  from 
forcing  a  union.  I  would  say  the  same  thing  to  a  woman.  If 
my  advice  were  followed,  how  many  unhappy  marriages  would 
be  avoided!  But  you  have  tempted  me  to  talk  too  much, 
Ivan.  I  see  the  ladies  wish  to  adjourn.  Shall  we  go  to  the 
smoking-room  for  a  little,  and  join  them  in  the  drawing-room 
afterwards?" 

We  all  rose. 

"Well,"  said  the  Prince,  gaily,  as  he  prepared  to  follow  liis 
host,  "I  realize  one  thing  which  gives  me  pleasure,  Casimir.  If 
in  truth  I  am  being  attracted  toAvards  your  electric  circle,  I 
hope  I  shall  reach  it  soon,  as  I  shall  then,  I  suppose,  be  more 
en  rapport  with  madame,  your  sister." 

Zara's  luminous  eyes  surveyed  him  with  a  sort  of  queenly 
pity  and  forbearance. 

"By  the  time  you  arrive  at  that  goal.  Prince,"  she  said 
calmly,  "it  is  most  probable  that  I  shall  have  departed." 

And  with  one  arm  thrown  round  my  waist,  she  saluted 
him  gravely,  and  left  the  room  with  me  beside  her. 

"Would  you  like  to  see  the  chapel  on  your  way  to  the  draw- 
ing-room?" she  asked  as  we  crossed  the  hall. 

I  gladly  accepted  this  proposition,  and  Zara  took  me  down 
a  flight  of  marble  steps,  which  terminated  in  a  handsomely- 
carved  oaken  door.  Pushing  this  softly  open,  she  made  the 
sign  of  the  cross  and  sank  on  her  knees.  I  did  the  same,  and 
then  looked  with  reverential  wonder  at  the  loveliness  and  se- 
renity of  the  place.  It  was  small,  but  lofty,  and  the  painted 
dome-shaped  roof  was  supported  by  eight  light  marble  col- 
umns, wreathed  with  minutely-carved  garlands  of  vine- 
leaves.  The  chapel  was  fitted  up  in  accordance  with  the  rites 
of  the  Catholic  religion,  and  before  the  High  Altar  and  Taber- 
nacle burned  seven  roseate  lamps,  which  were  suspended  from 
the  roof  by  slender  gilt  chains.  A  large  crucifix,  bearing  a 
most  sorrowful  and  pathetic  figure  of  Christ,  was  hung  on 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  S7 

one  side  of  the  side  walls;  and  from  a  corner  altar,  shining 
with  soft  blue  and  silver,  an  exquisite  statue  of  the  Madonna 
and  Child  was  dimly  seen  from  where  we  knelt.  A  few 
minutes  passed,  and  Zara  rose.  Looking  towards  the  Taber- 
nacle, her  lips  moved  as  though  murmuring  a  prayer,  and 
then,  taking  me  by  the  hand,  she  led  me  gently  out.  The 
heavy  oaken  door  swung  softly  behind  us  as  we  ascended  the 
chapel  steps  and  re-entered  the  great  hall. 

"You  are  a  Catholic,  are  you  not?"  then  said  Zara  to  me. 

"Yes,"  I  answered;  "but-^ " 

"But  you  have  doubts  sometimes,  you  would  say!  Of 
course.  One  always  doubts  when  one  sees  the  dissensions,  the 
hypocrisies,  the  false  pretenses  and  wickedness  of  many  pro- 
fessing Christians.  But  Christ  and  His  religion  are  living 
facts,  in  spite  of  the  suicide  of  souls  He  would  gladly  save. 
You  must  ask  Casimir  some  day  about  these  things;  he  will 
clear  up  all  the  knotty  points  for  you.  Here  we  are  at  the 
drawing-room  door." 

It  was  the  same  room  into  which  I  had  first  been  shown. 
Zara  seated  herself,  and  made  me  occupy  a  low  chair  beside 
her. 

"Tell  me,"  she  said,  "can  you  not  come  here  and  stay  with 
me  while  you  are  under  Casimir's  treatment?" 

I  thought  of  Madame  Denise  and  her  Pension. 

"I  Avish  I  could,"  I  said;  "but  I  fear  my  friends  would  want 
to  know  where  I  am  staying,  and  explanations  would  have  to 
be  given,  Avhicli  I  do  not  feel  disposed  to  enter  upon." 

"Why,"  went  on  Zara  quietly,  "you  have  only  to  say  that 
you  are  being  attended  by  a  Dr.  Casimir  who  wishes  to  have 
you  under  his  own  supervision,  and  that  you  are  therefore 
staying  in  his  house  under  the  chaperonage  of  his  sister." 

I  laughed  at  the  idea  of  Zara  playing  the  chaperon,  and 
told  her  she  was  far  too  young  and  beautiful  to  enact  that  char- 
acter. 

"Do  you  know"  how  old  I  am?"  she  asked,  with  a  slight 
smile. 

I  guessed  seventeen,  or  at  any  rate  not  more  than  twenty. 

"I  am  thirty-eight,"  said  Zara. 

Thirtj^-eight !  Impossible!  I  would  not  believe  it.  I  could 
not.  I  laughed  scornfully  at  such  an  absurdity,  looking  at 
her  as  she  sat  there  a  perfect  model  of  youthful  grace  and  love- 
liness, with  her  lustrous  eyes  and  rose-tinted  complexion. 


88  A   ROMANCE   OP    TWO   WORLDS. 

"Yon  may  doubt  me  if  yon  choose,"  slie  said,  still  smiling; 
*'but  I  have  told  you  the  truth.  I  am  thirty-eight  years  of  age 
according  to  the  world's  counting.  What  I  am,  measured  by 
another  standard  of  time,  matters  not  just  now.  You  see  I 
look  young,  and,  what  is  more,  I  am  young.  I  enjoy  my 
youth.  I  hear  that  women  of  society  at  thirty-eight  are  often 
faded  and  blase — what  a  pity  it  is  that  they  do  not  under- 
stand the  first  laws  of  self-}3reservation!  But  to  resume  what 
I  was  saying,  3-ou  Icnow  now  that  I  am  quite  old  enough  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world  to  chaperon  you  or  anybody.  You  had  bet- 
ter arrange  to  stay  here.  Casimir  asked  me  to  settle  the  mat- 
ter with  you." 

As  she  spoke,  Ileliobas  and  Prince  Ivan  entered.  The  lat- 
ter looked  flushed  and  excited — Heliobas  was  calm  and  state- 
ly as  usual.    He  addressed  himself  to  me  at  once. 

"1  have  ordered  my  carriage,  mademoiselle,  to  take  3^ou 
back  this  evening  to  the  Avenue  du  Midi.  If  you  will  do  as 
Zara  tells  you,  and  explain  to  your  friends  the  necessity  there 
is  for  your  being  under  the  personal  supervision  of  your 
doctor,  you  w^ill  find  everything  will  arrange  itself  very  natur- 
ally. And  the  sooner  you  come  here  the  better — in  fact,  Zara 
will  expect  you  here  to-morrow  early  in  the  afternoon.  I  may 
rely  upon  you  ?" 

He  spoke  with  a  certain  air  of  command,  evidently  expect- 
ing no  resistance  on  m)^  part.  Indeed,  why  should  I  resist? 
Already  I  loved  Zara,  and  wished  to  be  more  in  her  company; 
and  then,  most  probabty,  my  complete  restoration  to  health 
would  be  more  successfully  and  quickly  accomplished  if  I  were 
actually  in  the  house  of  the  man  who  had  promised  to  cure  me. 
Therefore  I  replied: 

"I  will  do  as  you  wish,  monsieur.  Having  placed  myself 
in  your  hands,  I  must  obe3\  In  tliis  particular  case,"  I  added, 
looking  at  Zara,  "obedience  is  very  agreeable  to  me." 

Heliobas  smiled  and  seemed  satisfied.  He  then  took  a  small 
goblet  from  a  side-table  and  left  the  room.  Returning,  how- 
ever, almost  immediately  with  the  cup  filled  to  the  brim, 
he  said,  handing  it  to  me: 

"Drink  this — it  is  your  dose  for  to-night;  and  then  you 
will  go  home,  and  straight  to  bed." 

I  drank  it  off  at  once.  It  was  delicious  in  flavor — like  ver^' 
fine  Chianti. 

"Have  you  no  soothing  draught  for  me?"  said  Prince  Ivan, 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  89 

who  had  been  turning  over  a  volume  of  photographs  in  a  sul- 
lenly abstracted  sort  of  way. 

"Xo/'  replied  Heliobas,  with  a  keen  glance  at  him;  "the 
draught  fitted  for  your  present  condition  might  soothe  you 
loo  thoroughly." 

The  Prince  looked  at  Zara,  but  she  was  mute.  She  had 
laken  a  piece  of  silk  embroidery  from  a  workbasket  near  her, 
and  was  busily  emploj^ed  with  it.  Heliobas  advanced  and 
laid  his  hand  on  the  young  man's  arm. 

'•Sing  to  us,  Ivan,"  he  said,  in  a  kind  tone.  "Sing  ns  one  of 
your  wild  Russian  airs — Zara  loves  them,  and  this  young  lady 
would  like  to  hear  your  voice  before  she  goes." 

The  Prince  hesitated,  and  then,  with  another  glance  at 
Zara's  bent  head,  went  to  the  piano.  He  had  a  brilliant 
touch,  and  accompanied  himself  with  great  taste  and  delicacy; 
but  his  voice  was  truly  magnificent — a  baritone  of  deep  and 
mellow  quality,  sonorous,  and  at  the  same  time  tender.  He 
sang  a  French  rendering  of  a  Slavonic  love-song,  which,  as 
nearly  as  I  can  translate  it  into  English,  ran  as  follows: 

"As  the  billows  fling  shells  on  the  shore. 
As  the  sun  pom-eth  light  on  the  sea, 
As  a  lark  on  the  wing  scatters  song  to  the  spring, 
So  rushes  my  love  to  thee. 

"As  the  ivy  clings  close  to  the  tower. 
As  the  dew  lieth  deep  in  a  flower, 
As  the  shadow  to  light,  as  the  day  unto  night, 
So  clings  my  wild  soul  to  thee! 

"As  the  moon  glitters  coldly  alone, 
Above  earth  on  her  cloud-woven  throne, 
As  the  rocky-bound  cave  repulses  a  wave. 
So  thy  anger  repulseth  me. 

"As  the  bitter  black  frost  of  a  night 
Slays  the  roses  with  pitiless  might. 
As  a  sharp  dagger-thrust  hurls  a  king  to  the  dust, 
So  thy  cruelty  murdereth  me. 

"Yet  in  spite  of  thy  queenly  disdain. 
Thou  art  seared  by  my  passion  and  pain; 
Thou  Shalt  hear  me  repeat,  till  I  die  for  it,  sweet! 
'I  love  thee!    I  dare  to  love  thee!'  " 

He  ended  abruptly  and  with  passion,  and  rose  from  the 
piano  directly. 


90  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

I  was  enthusiastic  in  my  admiration  of  the  song  and  of  the 
splendid  voice  which  had  given  it  utterance,  and  the  Prince 
seemed  almost  grateful  for  the  praise  accorded  him  both  b}^ 
lieliobas  and  myself. 

The  page  entered  to  announce  that  "the  carriage  was  wait- 
ing for  mademoiselle,"  and  I  prepared  to  leave.  Zara  kissed 
me  affectionately,  and  whispering,  "Come  early  to-morrow," 
made  a  graceful  salute  to  Prince  Ivan,  and  left  the  room  im- 
mediately. 

Heliobas  then  offered  me  his  arm  to  take  me  to  the  car- 
riage. Prince  Ivan  accompanied  us.  As  the  hall  door  opened 
in.  its  usual  noiseless  manner,  I  perceived  an  elegant  light 
brougham  drawn  by  a  pair  of  black  horses,  who  were  giving  the 
coachman  a  great  deal  of  trouble  by  the  fretting  and  spirited 
manner  in  which  they  pawed  the  stones  and  pranced.  Be- 
fore descending  the  steps  I  shook  hands  with  Heliobas,  and 
thanked  him  for  the  pleasant  evening  I  had  passed. 

"We  will  try  to  make  all  your  time  with  us  pass  as  pleasant- 
ly," he  returned.  "Good-night!  "What,  Ivan,"  as  he  per- 
ceived the  Prince  attiring  himself  in  his  great-coat  and  hat, 
"are  you  also  going?" 

"Yes,  I  am  off,"  he  replied,  with  a  kind  of  forced  gaiety; 
"I  am  bad  company  for  anyone  to-night,  and  I  won't  inflict 
myself  upon  you,  Casimir.  Au  revoir!  I  will  juit  mademoi- 
selle into  the  carriage  if  she  will  permit  me." 

We  went  down  the  steps  together,  Heliobas  watching  us 
from  the  open  door.  As  the  Prince  assisted  me  into  the 
brougham,  he  whispered: 

"Are  you  one  of  them!" 

I  looked  at  him  in  bewilderment. 

"One  of  them!"  I  repeated.    "What  do  you  mean?" 

"Never  mind,"  he  muttered  impatientl}',  as  he  made  a  pre- 
tense of  covering  me  with  the  fur  rugs  inside  the  carriage:  "if 
you  are  not  now,  you  will  be,  or  Zara  would  not  have  kissed 
you.  If  you  ever  have  the  chance  ask  her  to  think  of  me  at 
my  best.    Good-night." 

I  was  touched  and  a  little  soriy  for  him.  I  held  out  my 
hand  in  silence.  He  pressed  it  hard,  and  calling  to  the  coach- 
man, "36,  x\venue  du  Midi,"  stood  on  the  pavement  bare- 
headed, looking  singularly  pale  and  grave  in  the  starlight,  as 
Ihe  carriage  rolled  swiftly  away,  and  the  door  of  the  Hotel 
Mars  closed. 


A   ROMANCE   OB'   TWO   WORLDS.  91 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  SYMPHONY  IN  THE  AIR. 

Within  a  very  short  time  I  became  a  temporary  resident  in 
the  house  of  Heliobas,  and  felt  myself  to  he  perfectly  at  home 
there.  I  had  explained  to  Madame  Denise  the  cause  of  my 
leaving  her  comfortable  Pension,  and  she  had  fully  approved 
of  my  being  under  a  physician's  personal  care  in  order  to  en- 
sure rapid  recovery;  but  when  she  heard  the  name  of  that 
physician,  which  I  gave  (in  accordance  with  Zara's  instruc- 
tions) as  Dr.  Casimir,  she  held  up  her  fat  hands  in  dismay. 

"Oh,  mademoiselle,"  she  exclaimed,  "have  you  not  dread 
of  that  terrible  man?*  Is  it  not  he  that  is  reported  to  be  a  cruel 
mesmerist  who  sacrifices  everybody — yes,  even  his  own  sister, 
to  his  medical  experiments?  Ah,  7nmi  Dteu!  it  makes  me  to 
shudder!" 

And  she  shuddered  directly,  as  a  proof  of  her  veracity.  I 
was  amused.  I  saw  in  her  an  example  of  the  common  multi- 
tude, who  are  more  ready  to  believe  in  vulgar  spirit-rapping 
and  mesmerism  than  to  accept  an  established  scientific  fact. 

"Do  you  know  Dr.  Casimir  and  his  sister?"    I  asked  her. 

"I  have  seen  them,  mademoiselle;  perhaps  once — twice — 
three  times!  It  is  true  madame  is  lovely  as  an  angel;  but  they 
say" — here  she  lowered  her  voice  mysteriously — "that  she  is 
Avedded  to  a  devil!  It  is  true,  mademoiselle — all  |)eople  say 
so.  And  Suzanne  Michot — a  very  respectable  young  person, 
mademoiselle,  from  Auteuil — she  was  employed  at  one  time  as 
uuder-housemaid  at  Dr.  Casimir's,  and  she  had  things  to  say — 
all,  to  make  the  blood  like  ice!" 

"What  did  she  say?"  I  asked  with  a  half  smile. 

"Well,"  and  Madame  Denise  came  close  to  me  and  looked 
confidential,  "Suzanne — I  assure  you  a  most  respectable  girl — 
said  that  one  evening  she  was  crossing  the  passage  near  Mad- 
ame Casimir's  boudoir,  and  she  saw  a  light  like  fire  coming 
through  the  curtains  of  the  portiere.  And  she  stopped  to  lis- 
ten, and  she  heard  a  strange  music  like  the  sound  of  harps. 
She  ventured  to  go  nearer — Suzanne  is  a  brave  girl,  mademoi- 
selle, and  most  virtuous — and  to  raise  the  curtain  the  smallest 


S2  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

portion  just  to  pemiit  the  glance  of  an  eye.  And — imagine 
what  she  saw!" 

"Well!"  I  exclaimed  impatiently.    "What  did  she  see?" 

^'Ah,  mademoiselle,  you  will  not  believe  me — but  Suzanne 
Michot  has  respectable  parents,  and  would  not  tell  a  lie — well, 
Suzanne  saw  her  mistress,  Madame  Casimir,  standing  up  near 
her  couch  with  both  arms  extended  as  to  embrace  the  air. 
Bound  her  there  was — believe  it  or  not,  mademoiselle,  as  you 
please — a  ring  of  light  like  a  red  fire,  which  seemed  to  grow 
larger  and  redder  always.  All  suddenly,  madame  grew  pale 
and  more  pale,  and  then  fell  on  her  couch  as  one  dead,  and 
all  the  red  fire  went  out.  Suzanne  had  fear,  and  she  tried 
to  call  out^but  now  see  what  happened  to  Suzanne!  She  was 
pushed  from  the  spot,  mademoiselle,  pushed  along  as  though 
by  some  strong  personage;  yet  she  saw  no  one  till  she  reached 
her  own  door,  and  in  her  room  she  fainted  from  alarm.  The 
very  next  morning  Dr.  Casimir  dismissed  her,  with  her  full 
wages  and  a  handsome  present  besides;  but  he  looked  at  her, 
Suzanne  said,  in  a  manner  to  make  her  tremble  from  head  to 
foot.  Now,  mademoiselle,  judge  yourself  whether  it  is  fit  for 
one  who  is  suft'ering  with  nerves  to  go  to  so  strange  a  house!" 

I  laughed.  Her  story  had  not  the  least  eiJect  upon  me.  In 
fact,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  the  so  respectable  and  virtuous 
Suzanne  Michot  had  been  drinking  some  of  her  master's 
wine.    I  said: 

"Your  words  only  make  me  more  desirous  to  go,  Madame De- 
nise.  Besides,  Dr.  Casimir  has  already  done  me  a  great  deal  of 
good.  You  must  have  heard  things  of  him  that  are  not  alto- 
gether bad,  surely?" 

The  little  woman  reflected  seriously,  and  then  said,  as  with 
some  reluctance: 

"It  is  certainly  true,  mademoiselle,  that  in  the  quarter  of 
the  poor  he  is  much  beloved.  Jean  Duclos — he  is  a  chiffonnier 
— had  his  one  child  dying  of  typhoid  fever,  and  he  was 
watching  it  struggling  for  breath;  it  was  at  the  point  to  die. 
Monsieur  le  Comte  Casimir,  or  Dr.  Casimir — for  he  is  called 
both — came  in  all  suddenly,  and  in  half  an  hour  had  saved  the 
little  one's  life.  I  do  not  deny  that  he  may  have  some  good 
in  him,  and  that  he  understands  medicine;  but  there  is  some- 
thing wrong "  And  Madame  Denise  shook  her  head  for- 
lornly a  great  number  of  times. 

None  of  her  statements  deterred  me  from  my  intention. 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  93 

and  I  was  delighted  when  I  found  myself  fairly  installed  at 
the  Hotel  Mars.  Zara  gave  me  a  beautiful  room  next  to  her 
own;  she  had  taken  pains  .to  fit  it  up  herself  with  everything 
that  was  in  accordance  with  my  particular  tastes,  such  as  a 
choice  selection  of  books;  music,  including  many  of  the  fasci- 
nating scores  of  Schubert  and  Wagner;  writing  materials;  and 
a  pretty,  full-toued  pianette.  My  window  looked  out  on  a 
small  courtyard,  which  had  been  covered  over  with  glass  and 
iransformed  into  a  conservatory.  I  could  enter  it  by  going 
down  a  few  steps,  and  could  have  the  satisfaction  of  gathering 
roses  and  lilies  of  the  valley,  while  outside  the  east  wind  blew 
and  the  cold  snowflakes  fell  over  Paris.  I  wrote  to  Mrs.  Ever- 
ard  from  my  retreat,  and  I  also  informed  the  Challoners  where 
they  could  find  me  if  they  wanted  me.  These  duties  done,  I 
gave  myself  up  to  enjoyment.  Zara  and  I  became  inseparables; 
we  worked  together,  read  together,  and  together  every  morn- 
ing gave  those  finishing  touches  to  the  ordering  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  household  which  are  essentially  feminine,  and 
which  not  the  wisest  philosopher  in  all  the  world  has  been, 
or  ever  will  be,  able  to  accomplish  successfully.  We  grew 
to  love  each  other  dearly,  with  that  ungrudging,  sympathiz- 
ing, confiding  friendship  that  is  very  rarely  found  between  two 
women.  In  the  meantime  my  cure  went  on  rapidly.  Every 
night  on  retiring  to  rest  Heliobas  prepared  a  medicinal  dose 
for  me,  of  the  qualities  of  which  I  was  absolutely  ignorant, 
but  which  I  took  trustingly  from  his  hand.  Every  morning  a 
different  little  pliial  of  liquid  was  placed  in  the  bathroom  for 
me  to  empty  into  the  water  of  my  daily  bath,  and  every  hour  I 
grew  better,  brighter,  and  stronger.  The  natural  vivacity  of 
my  temperament  returned  to  me;  I  suffered  no  pain,  no  anx- 
iety, no  depression,  and  I  slept  as  soundly  as  a  child,  unvisited 
by  a  single  dream.  The  mere  fact  of  my  being  alive  became  a 
joy  to  me;  I  felt  grateful  for  everything — for  my  eyesight,  my 
speech,  my  hearing,  my  touch — because  all  my  senses  seemed 
to  be  sharpened  and  invigorated  and  braced  up  to  the  keen- 
est delight.  This  happy  condition  of  my  system  did  not  come 
suddenly — sudden  cures  mean  sudden  relapses;  it  was  a  grad- 
ual, steady,  ever-increasing,  reliable  recovery. 

I  found  the  society  of  Heliobas  and  his  sister  very  fascinat- 
ing. Their  conversation  was  both  thoughtful  and  brilliant, 
their  manners  were  evenly  gracious  and  kindly,  and  the  life 
they  led  was  a  model  of  perfect  household  peace  and  har- 


S4  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

mony.  There  was  never  a  fuss  about  anything:  the  domestic 
aiTangements  seemed  to  work  on  smoothly  oiled  wheels;  the 
different  repasts  were  served  with  quiet  elegance  and  regular- 
ity; the  servants  were  few,  but  admirably  trained;  and  we  all 
lived  in  an  absolutely  calm  atmosphere,  unruffled  by  so  mucli 
as  a  breath  of  worry,  Nothing  of  a  mysterious  nature  went  on, 
as  far  as  I  could  see. 

Heliobas  passed  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  his  stud}^ — 
a  small,  plainly  furnished  room,  the  facsimile  of  the  one  I 
had  beheld  him  in  when  1  had  dreamed  those  three  dreams  at 
Cannes.  Whether  he  received  many  or  few  patients  there  I 
could  not  tell;  but  that  some  applied  to  him  for  advice  I 
knew,  as  I  often  met  strangers  crossing  the  hall  on  their  way  in 
and  out.  He  always  joined  us  at  dinner,  and  was  invariably 
cheerful,  generally  entertaining  us  with  lively  converse  and 
sparkling  narrative,  though  now  and  then  the  thoughtful  ten- 
dency of  his  mind  predominated,  and  gave  a  serious  tone  to  his 
remarks. 

Zara  was  uniformly  bright  and  even  in  her  temperament. 
She  was  my  very  ideal  of  the  Greek  Psyche,  radiant  yet  calm, 
pensive  yet  mirthful.  She  was  full  of  beautiful  ideas  and 
poetical  fancies,  and  so  thoroughly  untouched  by  the  world 
and  its  aims,  that  she  seemed  to  me  just  to  poise  on  the  earth 
like  a  delicate  butterfly  on  a  flower;  and  I  should  have  been 
scarcely  surprised  had  I  seen  her  unfold  a  pair  of  shining 
Avings  and  fly  away  to  some  other  region.  Yet  in  spite  of  this 
spirituelle  nature,  she  was  physically  stronger  and  more  ro- 
bust than  any  other  woman  I  ever  saw.  She  was  gay  and  ac- 
tive; she  was  neve.r  tired,  never  ailing,  and  she  enjoj^ed  life 
with  a  keen  zest  such  as  is  unknown  to  the  tired  multitudes 
who  toil  on  ho])elessly  and  wearily,  wondering,  as  they  work, 
why  they  were  born.  Zara  evidently  had  no  doubts  or  specu- 
lations of  this  kind;  she  drank  in  every  minute  of  her  existence 
as  if  it  were  a  drop  of  honey-dew  prepared  specially  for  her 
l)alate.  I  never  could  believe  that  her  age  was  what  she  had 
declared  it  to  be.  She  seemed  to  look  younger  every  day; 
sometimes  her  eyes  had  that  limpid,  lustrous  innocence  that  is 
seen  in  the  eyes  of  a  very  little  child;  and,  again,  they  would 
change  and  glow  with  the  earnest  and  lofty  thought  of  one 
who  had  lived  through  years  of  study,  research,  and  discovery. 
For  the  first  few  days  of  my  visit  she  did  not  Avork  in  her 
studio  at  all,  but  appeared  to  prefer  reading  or  talking  with 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  95 

11) e.  One  afternoon,  however,  when  we  had  returned  from  a 
short  drive  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  she  said  half  hesitatingly: 

''I  think  I  will  go  to  work  again  to-morrow  morning,  if 
you  will  not  think  me  unsociable." 

"Why,  Zara  dearest!"  I  replied.  "Of  course  I  shall  not 
think  you  unsociable.  I  would  not  interfere  with  any  of  your 
jjursuits  for  the  world." 

She  looked  at  me  with  a  sort  of  wistful  affection,  and  con- 
tinued: 

"But  you  must  know  I  like  to  work  quite  alone,  and  though 
it  may  look  churlish,  still  not  even  you  must  come  into  the 
studio.  I  never  can  do  anything  before  a  witness;  Casimir 
himself  knows  that,  and  keeps  away  from  me." 

"Well!"  I  said,  "I  should  be  an  ungrateful  wretch  if  I 
could  not  oblige  you  in  so  small  a  request.  1  promise  not  to 
disturb  you,  Zara;  and  do  not  think  for  one  moment  that  I 
shall  be  dull.  I  have  books,  a  piano,  flowers — what  more  do 
I  want?  And  if  I  like  I  can  go  out;  then  I  have  letters  to 
Avrite,  and  all  sorts  of  things  to  occupy  me.  I  shall  be  quite 
happy,  and  I  shall  not  come  near  you  till  you  call  me." 

Zara  kissed  me. 

"You  are  a  dear  girl,"  she  said;  "I  hate  to  appear  inhos- 
pitable, but  I  kno^v  you  are  a  real  friend — that  you  will  love 
me  as  much  away  from  you  as  near  you,  and  that  you  have 
none  of  that  vulgar  curiosity  which  some  women  give  way 
to,  when  what  they  desire  to  see  is  hidden  from  them.  You 
are  not  inquisitive,  are  you?" 

I  laughed. 

"The  affairs  of  other  people  have  never  appeared  so  inter- 
esting to  me  that  I  have  eared  to  bother  myself  about  them," 
I  replied.  "Blue-Beard's  Chamber  would  never  have  been 
unlocked  had  I  been  that  worthy  man's  wife." 

"What  a  fine  moral  lesson  the  old  fairy-tale  teaches!"  said 
Zara.  "I  always  think  those  wives  of  Blue-Beard  deserved 
their  fate  for  not  being  able  to  obey  him  in  his  one  request. 
But  in  regard  to  your  pursuits,  dear,  while  I  am  at  work  in 
my  studio,  you  can  use  the  grand  piano  in  the  drawing-room 
when  you  please,  as  well  as  the  little  one  in  your  own  room; 
and  you  can  improvise  on  the  chapel  organ  as  much  as  you 
like." 

I  was  delighted  at  this  idea,  and  thanked  her  heartily.  She 
smiled  thoughtfully.  • 


96  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"What  happiness  it  must  be  for  you  to  love  music  so  thor- 
oughly!" she  said.  "It  fills  you  with  enthusiasm.  I  used  to 
dislike  to  read  the  biographies  of  musical  people;  they  all 
seemed  to  find  so  much  fault  with  one  another,  and  grudged 
each  other  every  little  bit  of  praise  wrung  from  the  world's 
cold,  death-doomed  lips.  It  is  to  me  pathetically  absurd  lo 
see  gifted  persons  all  struggling  along,  and  rudely  elbowing 
each  other  out  of  the  way  to  win — what?  A  few  stilted  com- 
monplace words  of  approbation  or  fault-finding  in  the  news- 
papers of  the  day,  and  a  little  clapping  and  shouting  from  a 
gathering  of  ordinary  minded  persons,  who  only  clap  and 
shout  because  it  is  possibly  the  fashion  to  do  so.  It  is  really 
ludicrous.  If  the  music  the  musician  oft'ers  to  the  public  be 
really  great,  it  will  live  by  itself  and  defy  praise  or  blame. 
Because  Schubert  died  of  want  and  sorrow,  that  does  not  in- 
terfere with  the  life  of  his  creations.  Because  Wagner  is  voted 
impossible  and  absurd  hy  many  who  think  themselves  good 
judges  of  musical  art,  that  does  not  offer  any  obstacle  to  the 
steady  s])read  of  his  fame,  which  is  destined  to  become  as  uni- 
versal as  that  of  Shakespeare.  Poor  Joachim,  the  violinist,  has 
got  a  picture  in  his  private  house,  in  which  Wagner  is  painted 
as  sufieripg  the  tortures  of  hell;  can  anything  be  more  absurd, 
when  we  consider  how  soon  the  learned  fiddler,  who  has  oc- 
cuiDied  his  life  in  playing  other  people's  compositions,  will  be 
a  handful  of  forgotten  dust,  while  multitudes  yet  to  come  will 
shout  their  admiration  of  'Tristran'  and  'Parsifal.'  Yes,  as  I 
said,  I  never  eared  for  musical  people  much,  till  I  met  a  friend 
of  my  brother's — a  man  whose  inner  life  was  an  exquisite 
harmony." 

"I  know!"  I  interrupted  her.  "He  wrote  the  'Letters  of  a 
Dead  Musician.' " 

"Yes,"  said  Zara.  "I  suppose  5^ou  saw  the  book  at  Eaffael- 
lo's  studio.  Good  EafEaello  Cellini!  his  is  another  absolutely 
ungrudging  and  unselfish  spirit.  But  this  musician  that  I 
speak  of  was  like  a  child  in  humility  and  reverence.  Casimir 
told  me  he  had  never  sounded  so  perfect  a  nature.  At  one 
time  he,  too,  was  a  little  anxious  for  recognition  and  praise, 
and  Casimir  saw  that  he  Avas  likely  to  v/reck  himself  on  that 
fatal  rock  of  poor  ambition.  So  he  took  him  in  hand,  and 
taught  him  the  meaning  of  his  work,  and  why  it  was  espe- 
cially given  him  to  do;  and  that  man's  life  became  'one  grand 


A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  97 

sweet  song.'  But  there  are  tears  in  your  eyes,  dear!  What 
have  I  said  to  grieve  you?" 

And  she  caressed  me  tenderly.  'J'hc  tears  were  indeed  thick 
in  my  eyes,  and  a  minute  or  two  elapsed  before  I  could  mas- 
ter them.    At  last  I  raised  my  head  and  endeavored  to  smile. 

''They  are  not  sad  tears,  Zara,"  I  said;  "1  think  they  come 
from  a  strong  desire  I  have  to  be  what  you  are,  what  your 
brother  is,  wdiat  that  dead  musician  must  have  been.  Why,  I 
have  longed,  and  do  long  for  fame,  for  wealth,  for  the  world's 
applause,  for  all  the  things  which  you  seem  to  think  so  petty 
and  mean.  How  can  I  help  it?  Is  not  fame  power?  Is  not 
money  a  double  power,  strong  to  assist  one's  self  and  those 
one  loves f  Is  not  the  world's  favor  a  necessary  means  to  gain 
these  things?" 

Zara's  eyes  gleamed  with  a  soft  and  pitying  gentleness. 

"Do  you  imderstand  what  you  mean  by  power?"  she  asked. 
"World's  fame?  World's  wealth!  Will  these  things  make  you 
enjoy  life?  You  will  perhaps  say  yes.  I  tell  you  no.  Laurels 
of  earth's  growing  fade;  gold  of  earth's  getting  is  good  for  a 
time,  but  it  palls  quickly.  Suji])ose  a  man  rich  enough  to 
purchase  all  the  treasures  of  the  world — what  then?  He  must 
die  and  leave  them.  Suppose  a  poet  or  musician  so  famous 
that  all  nations  know  and  love  him:  he  too  must  die,  and  go 
wliere  nations  exist  no  longer.  And  you  actually  would  grasp 
ashes  and  drink  wormwood,  little  friend  ?  Music,  the  heaven- 
born  spirit  of  pure  sound,  does  not  teach  you  so!" 

I  was  silent.  The  gleam  of  the  strange  jewel  Zara  always 
wore  flashed  in  my  eyes  like  lightning,  and  anon  changed  to 
the  similitude  of  a  crimson  star.  I  watched  it,  dreamily  fas- 
cinated by  its  unearthly  glitter. 

"Still,"  I  said,  "you  yourself  admit  that  such  fame  as  that 
of  Shakespeare  or  Wagner  becomes  a  universal  monument  to 
their  memories.    That  is  something,  sure^'?" 

"ISTot  to  them,"  replied  Zara;  "they  have  partly  forgotten 
that  they  ever  were  imprisoned  in  such  a  narrow  jail  as  this 
world.  Perhaps  they  do  not  care  to  remember  it,  though 
memory  is  part  of  immortality.'" 

"Ah!"  I  sighed  restlessly;  "your  thoughts  go  beyond  me, 
Zara.    I  cannot  follow  your  theories." 

Zara  smiled. 

"We  will  not  talk  about  them  any  more,"  she  said;  "you 
must  tell  Casimir — he  will  teach  you  far  better  than  I  can." 

7 


98  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"AYhat  shall  I  tell  him?"  I  asked;  "and  what  will  he  teach 
me?" 

"You  will  tell  him  what  a  high  opinion  you  have  of  the 
world  and  its  judgments,"  said  Zara,  "and  he  will  teach  you 
that  the  world  is  no  more  than  a  grain  of  dust,  measured  by 
the  standard  of  your  own  soul.  This  is  no  mere  platitude — 
no  repetition  of  the  poetical  statement:  'The  mind's  the 
standard  of  the  man;'  it  is  a  fact,  and  can  be  proved  as  com- 
pletely as  that  two  and  two  make  four.  Ask  Casimir  to  set 
you  free." 

"To  set  me  free?"  I  asked,  surprised. 

"Yes!"  and  Zara  looked  at  me  brightly.  "He  will  know 
if  you  are  strong  enough  to  travel!"  And  nodding  her  head 
gaily  to  me,  she  left  the  room  to  prepare  for  the  dinner-hour 
which  was  fast  approaching. 

I  pondered  over  her  words  a  good  deal  without  arriving  at 
any  satisfactory  conclusion  as  to  the  meaning  of  them.  I  did 
not  resume  the  conversation  with  her,  nor  did  I  speak  to  Heli- 
obas  as  yet,  and  the  days  went  on  smoothly  and  pleasantly  till 
1  had  been  nearly  a  week  in  residence  at  the  Hotel  Mars.  I 
noAv  felt  perfectly  well  and  strong,  though  Heliobas  continued 
to  give  me  his  remedies  regularly  night  and  morning.  I  began 
an  energetic  routine  of  musical  practice;  the  beautiful  piano 
in  the  drawing-room  answered  readily  to  ray  touch,  and  many 
a  delightful  hour  slipped  by  as  I  tried  various  new  diihculties 
on  the  key-board,  or  worked  out  different  combinations  of 
harmony.  I  spent  a  great  deal  of  my  time  at  the  organ  in  the 
little  chapel,  the  bellows  of  which  were  worked  by  electricity, 
in  a  manner  that  gave  not  the  least  trouble,  and  was  perfectly 
simple  of  management. 

The  organ  itself  was  peculiarly  sweet  in  tone,  the  "vox  hu- 
mana"  stop  especially  producing  an  entrancingly  rich  and 
tender  sound.  The  silence,  warmth,  and  beauty  of  the  chapel, 
with  the  winter  sunliglit  streaming  through  its  stained  win- 
dows, and  the  unbroken  soHtude  I  enjoyed  there,  all  gave 
fresh  impetus  to  the  fancies  of  my  brain,  and  a  succession  of 
solemn  and  tender  melodies  wove  themselves  under  my  fingers 
as  a  broidered  carpet  is  woven  on  the  loom. 

One  particular  afternoon,  I  was  sitting  at  the  instrument  as 
usual,  and  my  thoughts  began  to  busy  themselves  with  the 
sublime  tragedy  of  Calvary.  I  mused,  playing  softly  all  the 
while,  on  the  wonderful,  blameless,  glorious  life  that  had 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  99 

ended  in  the  shame  and  cruelty  of  the  Cross,  when  suddenly, 
like  a  cloud  swoopmg  darkly  across  the  heaven  of  my  thoughts, 
came  the  suggestive  question:  "Is  it  all  true?  Was  Ciirist 
indeed  Divine — or  is  it  all  a  myth,  a  fable — an  imposture?" 
Unconsciously  I  struck  a  discordant  chord  on  the  organ — a 
faint  tremor  shook  me,  and  I  ceased  playing.  An  uncomfort- 
able sensation  came  over  me,  as  of  some  invisible  yn-escnce 
being  near  me  and  approaching  softly,  slowly,  yet  always  more 
closely;  and  I  hurriedly  rose  from  my  seat,  sbut  the  organ, 
and  })repared  to  leave  the  chapel,  overcome  by  a  strange  in- 
comprehensible terror.  I  was  glad  when  I  found  myself  safely 
outside  the  door,  and  I  rushed  into  the  hall  as  though  I  were 
being  pursued;  yet  the  oddest  part  of  my  feeling  was,  that 
whoever  thus  pursued  me,  did  so  out  of  love,  not  enmity,  and 
that  I  was  almost  wrong  in  running  away.  I  leaned  for  a  mo- 
ment against  one  of  the  columns  in  the  hall,  trying  to  calm 
the  excited  beating  of  my  heart,  when  a.  deep  voice  startled 
nie: 

"So!  you  are  agitated  and  alarmed!  Unbelief  is  easily 
scared!" 

I  looked  U2>  and  met  the  calm  eyes  of  Ileliobas.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  taller,  statelier,  more  like  a  Chaldean  prophet  or 
king  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  before.  There  was  something 
in  his  steady  scrutiny  of  my  face  that  put  me  to  a  sort  of 
shame,  and  when  he  spoke  again  it  was  in  a  tone  of  mild  re- 
])roof. 

"You  have  been  led  astray,  my  child,  by  the  conflicting  and 
vain  opinions  of  mankind.  You,  like  many  others  in  the 
world,  delight  to  question,  to  speculate',  to  weigh  this,  to  meas- 
ure that,  with  little  or  no  profit  to  yourself  or  your  fellow- 
creatures.  And  you  have  come  freshly  from  a  land  where,  in 
the  great  Senate-house,  a  poor  perishable  lump  of  clay  calling 
itself  a  man,  dares  to  stand  u[)  boldly  and  deny  the  existence 
of  Cod,  while  his  compeers,  less  bold  than  he,  pretend  a  holy 
displeasure,  yet  secretl}"-  support  him — all  blind  worms  de- 
nying the  existence  of  the  sun;  a  land  where  so-called  Reli- 
gion is  split  into  hundreds  of  cold  and  narrow  sects,  gatherings 
assembled  for  the  practice  of  hypocrisy,  lip-service  and  lies — 
where  Self,  not  the  Creator,  is  the  prime  object  of  worship;  a 
land,  mighty  once  among  the  mightiest,  but  which  now,  like 
an  over-ripe  pear,  hangs  loosely  on  its  tree,  awaiting  but  a 
touch  to  make  it  fall!    A  land — let  me  not  nam*  it; — where 


lOQ  U^  ROMlANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

the  wealthy,  high-fed  ministers  of  the  nation  slowly  argue 
away  the  lives  of  better  men  tiian  themselves,  with  vain  words 
of  colder  and  more  cruel  force  than  the  whirling  spears  of  un- 
taught savages!  What  have  you,  an  ardent  disciple  of  music, 
to  do  in  such  a  land  where  favoritism  and  backstair  influence 
win  the  day  over  even  the  merits  of  a  Schubert?  Supposing 
you  were  a  second  Beethoven,  what  could  you  do  in  that  land 
without  faitli  or  hope?  that  land  which  is  like  a  disappointed, 
churlish,  and  aged  man  with  tottering  feet  and  purblind  eyes, 
who  has  long  ago  exhausted  all  enjoyment  and  sees  nothing 
new  under  the  sun.  The  world  is  wide— faith  is  yet  extant — 
and  the  teachings  of  Christ  are  true.  ^Believe  and  live;  doubt 
and  die!'     That  saying  is  true  also." 

I  had  listened  to  these  words  in  silence;  but  now  I  spoke 
eagerly  and  impatiently,  remembering  what  Zara  had  told  me. 

"Then,''"  I  said,  "if  I  have  been  misguided  by  modern  opin- 
ions— if  I  have  unconsciously  absorbed  the  doctrines  of  mod- 
ern fashionable  atheism — lead  me  right.  Teacli  me  Avhat  you 
know.  I  am  Avilling  to  learn.  Let  me  find  out  the  reason  of 
my  life.    Set  me  free!" 

Heliobas  regarded  me  with  earnest  solemnity. 

"Set  you  free!"  he  murmured  in  a  Jow  tone.  "Do  you  know 
what  you  ask?''" 

"JSTo,"  I  answered,  with  reckless  fervor.  "I  do  not  know 
what  I  ask;  but  I  feel  that  you  have  tlie  power  to  show  me  the 
unseen  things  of  another  world.  Did  you  not  yourself  tell 
me  in  our  first  interview  that  you  had  let  EatTaello  Cellini  'go 
on  a  voyage  of  discovery,  and  that  he  came  back  perfectly  sat- 
isfied?' Besides,  he  told  me  his  history.  From  you  he  has 
gained  all  that  gives  him  peace  and  comfort.  You  posses.-? 
electric  secrets  undreamt  of  by  the  world.  Prove  your  powers 
upon  me;   I  am  not  afraid.'^ 

Heliobas  smiled.  "Not  afraid!  And  you  ran  out  of  tlie 
chapel  Just  now  as  if  you  were  pursued  by  a  fiend!  You  must 
knov\^  that  the  only  woman  I  ever  tried  my  greatest  experi- 
ment upon  is  my  sister  Zara.  She  was  trained  and  prepared 
for  it  in  the  most  careful  manner;  and  it  succeeded.  Now" — 
and  Heliobas  looked  half-sad,  half-triumphant — "she  has 
passed  beyond  my  power;  she  is  dominated  by  one  greater 
than  I.  But  she  cannot  use  her  force  for  others;  she  can  only 
employ  it  to  defend  herself.    Therefore.  I  am  Avilling  to  try 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS,  lOl 

yon  if  you  indeed  desire  it — to  see  if  the  same  thing  will  occur 
U)  you  as  to  Zara;   and  I  firmly  believe  it  will." 

A  slight  tremor  came  over  me;  but  I  said  with  an  attempt 
at  indifference: 

"You  mean  that  I  shall  be  dominated  also  by  some  great 
force  or  influence?" 

"I  think  so,"  replied  Heliobas  musingly.  "Your  nature  is 
more  prone  to  love  than  to  command.  Try  and  follow  me  in 
the  explanation  I  am  going  to  give  you.  Do  you  know  som-e 
lines  by  Shelley  that  run — 

"  'Nothing  in  the  world  is  single, 
All  things  by  a  law  divine 
In  one  another's  being  mingle — 
Why  not  I  with  thine?'  " 

"Yes,"  I  said.  "I  knovv  the  lines  well.  I  used  to  think 
them  very  sentimental  and  pretty." 

"They  contain,"  said  Heliobas,  "the  germ  of  a  great  truth, 
as  many  of  the  most  fanciful  verses  of  the  poets  do.  As  the 
'image  of  a  voice'  mentioned  in  the  Book  of  Job  hinted  at  the 
telephone,  and  as  Shakespeare's  'girdle  round  the  earth'  fore- 
told the  electric  telegraph,  so  the  utterances  of  the  inspired 
starvelings  of  the  world,  known  as  poets,  suggest  many  more 
v/onders  of  the  universe  than  may  be  at  first  apparent.  Poets 
must  always  be  prophets,  or  their  calling  is  in  vain.  Put  this 
standard  of  judgment  to  the  verse- writers  of  the  day,  and 
where  would  they  be?  The  English  Laureate  is  no  seer;  he  is 
a  mere  relater  of  pretty  stories.  Algernon  Charles  Swinburne 
has  more  fire  in  him,  and  more  wealth  of  expression,  but  he 
does  not  prophesy;  he  has.a  clever  way  of  combining  Biblical 
similes  with  Provencal  passion — et  voila  tout!  The  prophets 
are  always  poor — the  sackcloth  and  ashes  of  the  world  are 
their  portion;  and  their  bodies  moulder  a  lunidred  years  or 
more  in  the  grave  before  the  world  finds  out  what  they  meant 
by  their  ravings.  But  apropos  of  these  lines  of  Shelley.  Ho 
speaks  of  the  duality  of  existence.  'Nothing  in  the  world  is 
single.'  He  might  have  gone  further,  and  said  nothing  in  the 
universe  is  single.  Cold  and  heat,  storm  and  sunshine,  good 
and  evil,  Joy  and  sorrow — all  go  in  pairs.  This  double  life  ex- 
tends to  all  the  spheres  and  above  the  spheres.  Do  you  un- 
derstand?" 

"I  understand  what  you  sa}^"  I  said  slowly;  "but  I  cannot 
see  your  meaning  as  applied  to  myself  or  yourself." 


1U2  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"I  will  teach  you  in  a  few  words,"  went  on  Heliobas.  "You 
believe  in  the  soul?" 

"Yes." 

"Very  well.  Now  realize  that  there  is  no  soul  on  this  earth 
that  is  complete,  alone.  Like  everything  else,  it  is  dual.  It 
is  like  half  a  flame  that  seeks  the  other  half,  and  is  dissatisfied 
and  restless  till  it  attains  its  object.  Lovers,  misled  by  the 
blinding  light  of  Love,  think  they  have  reached  completeness 
Avhen  they  are  united  to  the  person  beloved.  jSToav,  in  very, 
very  rare  cases,  perhaps  one  among  a  thousand,  this  desirable 
result  is  effected;  but  the  majority  of  people  are  content  with 
the  union  of  bodies  only,  and  care  little  or  nothing  about  the 
sympathy  or  attachment  between  souls.  There  are  people, 
however,  who  do  care,  and  who  never  find  their  Twin-Flame 
or  companion  Sj^irit  at  all  on  earth,  and  never  will  find  it. 
And  why?  Because  it  is  not  imprisoned  in  clay;  it  is  else- 
where." 

"Well?"  I  asked  eagerly. 

"Well,  you  seem  to  ask  me  by  your  eyes  what  this  all  means. 
1  will  apply  it  at  once  to  myself.  By  my  researches  into  hu- 
jiian  electrical  science,  I  discovered  that  my  companion,  my 
other  half  of  existence,  though  not  on  earth,  was  near  me, 
and  could  be  commanded  by  me;  and,  on  being  commanded, 
obeyed.  With  Zara  it  was  different.  She  could  not  command 
— she  obeyed;  she  was  the  weaker  of  the  two.  With  you,  I 
think  it  will  be  the  same  thing.  Men  sacrifice  everything  to 
ambition;  women  to  love.  It  is  natural.  I  see  there  is  much 
of  what  I  have  said  that  appears  to  have  mystified  you;  it  is 
no  good  puzzling  your  brain  any  more  about  it.  No  doubt  you 
think  I  am  talking  very  wildly  about  Twin-Flames  and  Spirit- 
ual Affinities  that  live  for  us  in  another  sphere.  You  do  not 
believe,  perhaps,  in  the  existence  of  beings  in  the  very  air  that 
surrounds  us,  invisible  to  ordinary  human  eyes,  yet  actually 
akin  to  us,  with  a  closci-  relationship  than  any  tie  of  blood 
known  on  earth?" 

I  hesitated.  Heli()1)as  saw  my  hesitation,  and  his  eyes  dark- 
ened with  a  somlu'o  wrath. 

"Are  you  one  of  those  also  who  must  see  in  order  to  be- 
lieve?" he  said,  half  angrily.  "Where  do  you  suppose  your 
music  comes  from?  Where  do  yon  suppose  any  music  comes 
from  that  is  not  mere  imitation?  The  greatest  composers  of 
the  world  have  been  mere  receptacles  of  sound;  and  the  empt- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  103 

icr  they  were  of  self-love  and  vanity,  the  greater  quantity  of 
heaven-born  melody  they  held.  The  German  Wagner — did  he 
not  himself  say  that  he  walked  up  and  down  in  the  avenues, 
'trying  to  catch  the  harmonies  as  they  floated  in  the  air?' 
Come  with  me — come  back  to  the  place  you  left,  and  I  will 
see  if  you,  like  Wagner,  are  able  to  catch  a  melody  flying." 

He  grasped  my  unresisting  arm,  and  led  me,  half-frightened, 
lialf-curious,  into  the  little  chapel,  Avhere  he  bade  me  seat  my- 
self at  the  organ. 

"'Do  not  play  a  simrlc  note,"  he  said,  ''till  vou  are  com- 
pelled." 

And  standing  beside  me,  Heliobas  laid  his  hands  ou  iny 
head,  then  pressed  them  on  my  ears,  and  finally  touched  my 
hands,  that  rested  passively  on  the  key-board. 

He  then  raised  his  eyes,  and  uttered  the  name  I  had  often 
thought  of  but  never  mentioned — the  name  he  had  called 
upon  in  my  dream. 

"Azul!"  he  said,  in  a  low^,  penetrating  voice,  "open  the  gate- 
wa3'S  of  the  Air  that  we  may  hear  the  sound  of  Song!" 

A  soft  rushing  noise  of  wind  answered  his  adjuration.  This 
was  followed  by  a  burst  of  music,  transcendentl}-  lovely,  but 
unlike  any  music  I  had  ever  heard.  There  were  sounds  of  deli- 
cate and  entrancing  tenderness  such  as  no  instrument  made 
by  human  hands  could  produce;  there  was  singing  of  clear 
and  tender  tone,  and  of  infinite  purity  such  as  no  human 
voices  could  be  capable  of.  I  listened,  perplexed,  alarmed, 
yet  entranced.  Suddenly  I  distinguished  a  melody  running 
through  the  wonderful  air-symphonies — a  melody  like  a  flower, 
fresh  and  perfect.  Instinctively  I  touched  the  organ  and  be- 
gan to  play  it;  I  found  I  could  produce  it  note  for  note.  I 
forgot  all  fear  in  my  delight,  and  I  played  on  and  on  in  a  sort 
of  deepening  rapture.  Gradually  I  became  aware  that  the 
strange  sounds  about  me  were  dying  slowly  away;  fainter  and 
fainter  they  grew — softer — farther — and  finally  ceased.  But 
the  melody — that  one  distinct  passage  of  notes  I  had  followed 
out — remained  with  me,  and  I  played  it  again  and  again  ^rith 
feverish  eagerness  lest  it  should  escape  me.  I  had  forgotten 
the  presence  of  Heliobas.  But  a  touch  on  my  shoulder  roused 
me.  I  looked  up  and  met  his  eyes  fixed  upon  me  with  a  steady 
and  earnest  regard.  A  shiver  ran  through  me,  and  I  felt  be- 
wildered. 

"Have  I  lost  it?"  I  asked. 


104  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"Lost  what?"  he  demanded. 

"The  time  I  heard — the  harmonies." 

"No,"  he  replied;  "at  least  I  think  not.  But  if  yon  have,  no 
matter.  You  will  hear  others.  Why  do  you  look  so  dis- 
tressed?" 

"It  is  lovely,"  I  said  \\dstfully,  "all  that  music;  but  it  is 
not  mine;"  and  tears  of  re<i-rct  filled  my  eyes.  "Oh,  if  it  were 
only  mine — ^my  very  own  composition!" 

Heliobas  smiled  kindly. 

"It  is  as  much  yours  as  anything  belongs  to  anyone. 
Yours?  Why,  what  can  you  really  call  your  own?  Every  tal- 
ent you  have,  every  breath  you  draw,  every  drop  of  blood  flow- 
ing in  your  veins,  is  lent  to  you  only;  you  must  pay  it  all  back. 
And  as  far  as  the  arts  go,  it  is  a  bad  sign  of  poet,  painter,  or 
musician,  who  is  arrogant  enough  to  call  his  work  his  own.  It 
never  was  his,  and  never  will  be.  It  is  planned  by  a  higher 
intelligence  than  his,  only  he  happens  to  be  the  hired  laborer 
chosen  to  carry  out  the  conception;  a  sort  of  mechanic  in 
whom  boastfulness  looks  absurd;  as  absurd  as  if  one  of  the 
stonemasons  worldng  at  the  cornice  of  a  cathedral  were  to 
vaunt  himself  as  the  designer  of  the  whole  edifice.  And  when 
a  work,  any  work,  is  completed,  it  passes  out  of  the  laborer's 
hands;  it  belongs  to  the  age  and  the  people  for  whom  it  was 
accomplished,  and,  if  deserving,  goes  on  belonging  to  future 
ages  and  future  peoples.  So  far,  and  only  so  far,  music  is  your 
own.  But  are  you  convinced  ?  or  do  you  think  you  have  been 
dreaming  all  that  you  heard  just  now?" 

I  rose  from  the  organ,  closed  it  gently,  and,  moved  by  a 
sudden  impulse,  held  out  both  my  hands  to  Heliobas.  He  took 
them  and  held  them  in  a  friendly  clasp,  watching  me  intently 
as  I  spoke. 

"I  believe  in  you,"  I  said  firmly;  "and  I  know  thoroughly 
(veil  that  I  was  not  dreaming;  I  certainly  heard  strange  music, 
and  entrancing  voices.  But  in  acknowledging  your  powers 
over  something  unseen,  I  must  explain  to  you  the  incredulity 
I  at  first  felt,  which  I  believe  annoyed  you.  I  was  made  skep- 
tical on  one  occasion,  by  attending  a  so-called  spiritual  seance, 
where  they  tried  to  convince  me  of  the  truth  of  table-turn- 
ing  " 

Heliobas  laughed  softly,  still  holding  my  hands. 

"Yonr  reason  will  at  once  tell  you  that  disembodied  spirits 
never  become  so  undignified  as  to  upset  furniture  or  rap  on 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  105 

tables.  Neither  do  they  write  letters  in  pen  and  ink  and  put 
them  under  doors.  Spiritual  beings  are  purely  spiritual;  they 
cannot  touch  anything  human,  much  less  deal  in  such  vulgar 
display  as  the  throwing  about  of  chairs,  and  the  opening  of 
locked  sideboards.  You  were  very  rightly  skeptical  in  these 
matters.  But  in  what  I  have  endeavored  to  prove  to  you,  you 
have  no  doubts,  have  yon?" 

"None  in  the  world,"  I  said.  "I  only  ask  you  to  go  on  teach- 
ing me  the  wonders  that  seem  so  familiar  to  you.  Let  me 
know  all  I  may;  and  soon!"  I  spoka  with  trembling  eager- 
ness. 

"You  have  been  only  eight  days  m  the  house,  my  child," 
said  Heliobas,  loosening  my  hands,  and  signing  me  to  come 
out  of  the  chapel  with  him;  "and  I  do  not  consider  you  suffi- 
ciently strong  as  yet  for  the  experiment  you  wish  me  to  try 
upon  you.  Even  now  you  are  agitated.  Wait  one  week  more, 
and  then  you  shall  be " 

"What  ?"  I  asked  impatiently. 

"Lifted  up,"  he  replied.  "Lifted  up  above  this  little  speck 
called  earth.  But  now,  no  more  of  this.  Go  to  Zara;  keep 
your  mind  well  employed;  study,  read,  and  pray — pray  much 
and  often  in  few  and  simple  words,  and  with  as  utterly  unsel- 
fish a  heart  as  you  can  prepare.  Think  that  you  are  going  to 
some  high  festival,  and  attire  your  soul  in  readiness.  I  do  not 
say  to  you  'Have  faith;'  I  would  not  compel  your  belief  in 
anything  against  your  own  will.  You  wish  to  be  convinced 
of  a  future  existence;  yon  seek  proofs;  you  shall  have  them. 
Li  the  meantime  avoid  all  conversation  with  me  on  the  subject. 
You  can  confide  your  desires  to  Zara  if  you  like;  her  expe- 
rience may  be  of  use  to  you.  Yon  had  best  join  her  now.  Au 
revoir!"  and  with  a  kind  parting  gesture,  he  left  me. 

I  watched  his  stately  figure  disappear  in  the  shadow  of  the 
passage.leading  to  his  own  study,  and  then  I  hastened  to  Zara's 
room.  The  musical  episode  in  the  chapel  had  certainly  startled 
me,  and  the  words  of  Heliobas  were  full  of  mysterious  mean- 
ing; but,  strange  to  say,  I  was  in  no  way  rendered  anxious  or 
alarmed  by  the  prospect  I  had  before  me  of  being  "lifted  np," 
as  my  physician  had  expressed  it.  I  thought  of  Kaffaello  Cel- 
lini and  his  historj'-,  and  I  determined  within  myself  that  no 
cowardly  hesitation  or  fear  should  prevent  me  from  maldng 
the  attempt  to  see  what  he  professed  to  have  seen.    I  found 


106  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

Zara  reading.  She  looked  up  as  I  entered,  and  greeted  me 
with  her  usual  bright  smile." 

"You  have  had  a  long  practice,"  she  began;  "I  thiught 
you  were  never  coming.'" 

I  sat  down  beside  her,  and  related  at  once  all  that  had  hap- 
pened to  me  that  afternoon.  Zara  listened  with  deep  and  al- 
most breathless  interest. 

"You  are  quite  resolved,"  she  said,  when  I  liad  concluded, 
"to  let  Casimir  exert  his  force  upon  you?" 

"I  am  cjuite  resolved,"  I  answered. 

"And  you  have  no  fear?" 

"None  that  I  am  just  now  conscious  of." 

Zara's  eyes  became  darker  and  deeper  in  the  gravity  of  her 
intense  meditation.    At  last  she  said : 

"I  can  help  you  to  keep  your  courage  firmly  to  the  point, 
by  letting  you  know  at  once  what  Casimir  will  do  to  you.  Be- 
yond that  I  cannot  go.  You  understand  the  nature  of  an 
electric  shock?" 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  there  are  different  kinds  of  electric  shocks — some 
that  are  remedial,  some  that  are  fatal.  There  are  cures  per- 
formed by  a  careful  use  of  the  electric  battery — again,  people 
are  struck  dead  by  lightning,  which  is  the  fatal  result  of  elec- 
tric force.  But  all  this  is  external  electricity;  now  what  Casi- 
mir will  use  on  you  will  be  internal  electricity." 

T  begged  her  to  explain  more  clearly.     She  went  on: 

"You  have  internally  a  certain  amount  of  electricity,  which 
has  been  increased  recently  by  the  remedies  prescribed  for  you 
by  Casimir.  But,  however  much  you  have,  Casimir  has  more, 
and  he  will  exert  his  force  over  your  force,  the  greater  over 
the  lesser.  You  will  experience  an  internal  electric  shock, 
which,  like  a  sword,  will  separate  in  twain  body  and  spirit. 
The  spiritual  part  of  you  will  be  lifted  up  above  material 
forces;  the  bodily  part  will  remain  inert  and  useless,  till  the 
life,  which  is  actually  you,  returns  to  put  its  machinery  in  mo- 
tion once  more." 

"But  shall  I  return  at  all?"  I  asked  half  doubtfully. 

"You  must  return,  because  God  has  fixed  the  limits  of  your 
life  on  earth,  and  no  human  power  can  alter  His  decree.  Casi- 
mir's  will  can  set  you  free  for  a  time,  but  only  for  a  time.  You 
are  bound  to  return,  be  it  never  so  reluctantlv.    Eternal  lib- 


A    R0MANCI3    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  10? 

erty  is  given  by  Death  alone,  and  Death  cannot  be  forced  to 
come." 

"How  about  suicide?"  1  asked. 

"The  suicide,"  repHcd  Zara,  "has  no  soul.  He  kills  his 
body,  and  by  the  very  act  proves  that  whatever  germ  of  an  im- 
mortal existence  he  may  have  had  once,  has  escaped  from  its 
unworth}^  habitation,  and  gone,  like  a  Hying  spark,  to  find  a 
chance  of  growth  elsewhere.  Surely  your  own  reason  proves 
this  to  you?  The  very  animals  have  more  soul  than  a  man 
who  commits  suicide.  The  beasts  of  prey  slay  each  other  for 
hunger  or  in  self-defense,  but  they  do  not  slay  themselves. 
That  is  a  brutality  left  to  man  alone,  with  its  companion  deg- 
radation, drunkenness." 

I  mused  awhile  in  silence. 

"In  ail  the  wickedness  and  cruelty  of  mankind,"  I  said,  "it 
is  almost  a  wonder  that  there  is  any  spiritual  existence  left  on 
earth  at  all.  Why  should  God  trouble  Himself  to  care  for 
such  few  souls  as  thoroughly  believe  in  and  love  Him? — they 
can  be  but  a  mere  handful." 

"Such  a  mere  handful  are  worth  more  than  the  world  to 
him,"  said  Zara  gravely.  "Oii,  juy  dear,  do  not  say  such  things 
as  why  should  God  trouble  Himself?  Why  do  you  trouble 
yourself  for  the  safety  and  happiness  of  anyone  3'ou  love?" 

Her  eyes  grew  soft  and  tender,  and  the  jewel  she  wore  glim- 
]nered  like  moonlight  on  the  .•~ea.  I  felt  a  little  abashed,  and, 
to  change  the  subject,  I  said: 

"Tell  me,  Zara,  what  is  that  stone  you  always  wear?  Is 
it  a  talisman?" 

"It  belonged  to  a  king,"  said  Zara — "at  least,  it  was  found 
iu  a  king's  coffin.  It  has  been  in  our  family  for  generations. 
( 'asimir  says  it  is  an  electvic  stone — there  are  such  still  to  be 
found  in  remote  parts  of  the  sea.    Do  you  like  it?" 

"It  is  very  brilliant  and  lovely,"  I  said. 

"When  I  die,"  went  on  Zara  slowly,  "I  will  leave  it  to  you." 

"I  hope  I  shall  have  to  wait  a  long  time  before  I  get  it, 
then,"  I  exclaimed,  embracing  her  afl'ectionately.  "Indeed,  I 
will  pray  never  to  receive  it." 

"You  will  pray  wrongly,"  said  Zara,  smiling.  "But  tell 
me,  do  you  quite  understand  from  my  explanation  what  Casi- 
mir  will  do  to  you?" 

"I  think  I  do." 

"And  you  are  not  afraid?" 


108  A    ROMANCE    OP   TWO   WORLDS. 


"Not  at.  all.    Shall  I  suffer  any  pain?" 

"No  actual  pang.  You  will  feel  giddy  for  a  moment,  and 
your  body  will  become  unconscious.    That  is  all." 

I  meditated  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  looking  up,  saw 
Zara's  eyes  watching  me  with  a  wistful  inquiring  tenderness. 
I  answered  her  look  with  a  smile,  and  said,  half  gaily : 

^'L'midace,  Vaudace,  et  toujours  Vaudace!  That  must  be 
my  motto,  Zara.  I  have  a  chance  now  of  proving  how  far  a 
woman's  bravery  can  go,  and  I  assure  you  I  am  proud  of  the 
opportunity.  Your  brother  uttered  some  very  cutting  re- 
marks on  the  general  inaptitude  of  the  female  sex  when  I  first 
made  his  acquaintance;  so,  for  the  honor  of  the  thing,  I  must 
follow  the  jDath  I  have  begun  to  tread.  A  plunge  into  the  un- 
seen world  is  surely  a  bold  step  for  a  woman,  and  I  am  deter- 
mined to  take  it  courageously." 

"That  is  well,"  said  Zara.  "I  do  not  think  it  possible  for 
you  ever  to  regret  it.  It  is  growing  late — shall  we  prepare  for 
dinner?" 

I  assented,  and  we  separated  to  our  different  rooms.  Be- 
fore commencing  to  dress  I  opened  the  pianette  that  stood 
near  my  window,  and  tried  very  softly  to  play  the  melody  I 
had  heard  in  the  chapel.  To  my  joy  it  came  at  once  to  my 
fingers,  and  I  was  able  to  remember  every  note.  I  did  not 
attempt  to  write  it  down — somehow  I  felt  sure  it  would  not 
escape  me  now.  A  sense  of  profound  gratitude  filled  my  heart, 
and,  remembering  the  counsel  given  by  Heliobas,  I  knelt  rev- 
erently down  and  thanked  God  for  the  j-oy  and  grace  of  music. 
As  I  did  so,  a  faint  breath  of  sound,  like  a  distant  whisper  of 
harps,  played  in  unison,  floated  past  my  ears, — then  appeared 
to  sweep  round  in  ever-widening  circles,  till  it  gradually  died 
away.  But  it  was  sweet  and  entrancing  enough  for  me  to  un- 
derstand how  glorious  and  full  of  rapture  must  have  been  the 
star-symphony  played  ou  that  winter's  night  long  ago,  when 
ihe  angels  chanted  together,  "Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
and  on  earth  peace  and  good  will  to  Man!" 


A  ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  109 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN    ELECTRIC    SHOCK. 

Prince  Ivan  Petroffsky  was  a  constant  visitor  at  the  Hotel 
Mars,  and  I  began  to  take  a  certain  interest  in  liim,  not  un- 
mingled  with  pity,  for  it  was  evident  that  he  was  hopelessly 
in  love  with  my  beautiful  friend  Zara.  She  received  him  al- 
ways with  courtesy  and  kindness;  but  her  behavior  to  him  was 
n.iarked  by  a  somewhat  cold  dignity,  which,  like  a  barrier  of 
ice,  repelled  the  warmth  of  his  admiration  and  attention. 
Once  or  twice,  remembering  what  he  had  said  to  me,  I  endeav- 
ored to  speak  to  her  concerning  him  and  his  devotion;  but  she 
so  instantly  and  decisively  turned  the  conversation  that  I  saw  I 
should  displease  her  if  I  persisted  in  it.  Heliobas  appeared 
to  be  reall}  attached  to  the  Prince,  at  which  I  secretly  Avon- 
dered;  the  worldly  and  frivolous  young  nobleman  Avas  of  so 
entirely  different  a  temperament  to  that  of  the  thoughtful  and 
studious  Chaldean  philosopher.  Yet  there  was  evidently  some 
mysterious  attraction  between  them — the  Prince  appeared  to 
be  profoundly  interested  in  electric  theories  and  experiments, 
and  Heliobas  never  wearied  of  expounding  them  to  so  atten- 
tive a  listener.  The  wonderful  capabilities  of  the  dog  Leo 
also  were  brought  into  constant  requisition  for  Prince  Ivan's 
benefit,  and  without  doubt  they  were  most  remarkable.  This 
animal,  commanded — or,  I  should  say,  brain-electrified — ^by 
Heliobas,  would  fetch  anj^thing  that  was  named  to  him 
through  his  master's  force,  providing  it  was  light  enough  for 
him  to  carry;  and  he  would  go  into  the  conservatory  and  pluck 
otr  with  his  teeth  any  rare  or  common  flower  within  his  reach 
that  was  described  to  him  by  the  same  means.  Spoken  to  or 
commanded  by  others,  he  was  simply  a  good-natured  intelli- 
gent Newfoundland;  laut  under  the  authority  of  Heliobas,  he 
became  more  than  human  in  ready  wit  and  quick  obedience, 
and  would  have  brought  in  a  golden  harvest  to  any  great  circus 
or  menagerie. 

He  was  a  never-failing  source  of  wonder  and  interest  to  me, 
and  even  more  so  to  the  Prince,  who  made  him  the  subject 
of  many  an  abstruse  and  difficult  discussion  with  his  friend 


110  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

Casimir.  I  noticed  that  Zara  seemed  to  regret  the  frequent 
companionship  of  Ivan  Petrofl'sky  and  her  brother,  and  a 
shade  of  sorrow  or  vexation  often  crossed  lier  fair  face  when 
she  saw  them  together  absorbed  in  conversation  or  argument. 

One  evening  a  strange  circumstance  occurred  whicli  startled 
and  deeply  impressed  me.  Prince  Ivan  had  dined  with  us;  he 
was  in  extraordinarily  high  spirits — his  gaiety  was  almost  bois- 
terous, and  his  face  was  deeply  flushed.  Zara  glanced  at  him 
half  indignantly  more  than  once  when  his  laughter  became 
unusually  uproarious,  and  I  saw  that  Heliobas  watched  him 
closely  and  half-inquiringly,  as  if  he  thought  there  was  some- 
thing amiss. 

The  Prince,  however,  heedless  of  his  host's  observant  eye, 
tossed  off  glass  after  glass  of  wine,  and  talked  incessantly. 
After  dinner,  when  we  all  assembled  in  the  drawing-room,  he 
seated  himself  at  the  piano  withoiit  being  asked,  and  sang 
several  songs.  Whether  he  were  influenced  by  drink  or  strong 
excitement,  his  voice  at  any  rate  showed  no  sign  of  weakness 
or  deterioration.  Never  had  I  heard  him  sing  so  magnifi- 
cently. He  seemed  possessed  not  by  an  angel  but  by  a  demon 
of  song.  It  was  impossible  not  to  listen  to  him,  and  while 
listening,  equally  impossible  not  to  admire  him.  -Even  Zara, 
who  was  generally  indifferent  to  his  music,  became,  on  this 
particular  night,  fascinated  into  a  sort  of  dreamy  attention. 
He  perceived  this,  and  suddenly  addressed  himself  to  her  in 
softened  tones  which  bore  no  trace  of  their  previous  loudness. 

"Madame,  you  honor  me  to-night  by  listening  to  my  poor 
efforts.    It  is  seldom  I  am  thus  rewarded!" 

Zara  flushed  deeply,  and  then  grew  very  pale. 

"Indeed,  Prince,"  she  answered  quietly,  "you  mistake  me. 
I  always  listen  with  pleasure  to  your  singing — to-night,  per- 
haps, my  mood  is  more  fitted  to  music  than  is  usual  with  me, 
and  thus  I  may  appear  to  you  to  be  more  attentive.  But  your 
voice  always  delights  me  as  it  must  delight  everybody  who 
hears  it." 

"While  you  are  in  a  musical  mood,  then,"  returned  Prince 
Ivan,  "let  me  sing  you  an  English  song — one  of  the  loveliest 
ever  penned.  I  have  set  it  to  music  myself,  as  such  words  are 
not  of  the  kind  to  suit  ordinary  composers  or  pubh'shers;  they 
are  too  much  in  earnest,  too  passionate,  too  full  of  real  human 
love  and  sorrow.  The  songs  that  suit  modern  drawing-rooms 
and  concert-halls,  as  a  rule,  are  those  that  are  full  of  sham  sen- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS.  Ill 

timent — a  real,  strong,  throbbing  heart  pulsing  through  a 
song  is  too  terribly  exciting  for  lackadaisical  society.  Listen!" 
And,  playing  a  dreamy,  luurniuring  prelude  like  the  sound  of 
a  brook  flowing  through  a  hollow  cavern,  he  sang  Swinburne's 
''Leave-Taking,"  surely  one  of  the  saddest  and  most  beautiful 
poems  in  the  English  language. 

He  subdued  his  voice  to  suit  the  melancholy  hopelessness 
of  the  lines,  and  rendered  it  with  so  much  intensity  of  pathetic 
expression  that  it  was  difficult  to  keep  tears  from  filling  the 
eyes.  When  he  came  to  the  last  verse,  the  anguish  of  a  wasted 
life  seemed  to  declare  itself  in  the  complete  despair  of  his  low 
vibrating  tones: 

"Let  us  go  hence  and  rest;  she  will  not  love. 
She  shall  not  hear  us  if  we  sing  hereof, 
Nor  see  love's  ways,  how  sore  they  are  and  steep. 
Come  hence,  let  be,  lie  still;  it  is  enough. 
Love  is  a  barren  sea,  bitter  and  deep; 
And  though  she  saw  all  heaven  in  flower  above. 
She  would  not  love!" 

The  deep  melancholy  of  the  mtisic  and  the  quivering  pathos 
of  the  deep  baritone  voice  were  so  affecting  that  it  was  alniost 
a  relief  when  the  song  ceased.  I  had  been  looldng  out  of  the 
window  at  the  fantastic  patterns  of  the  moonlight  on  the  gar- 
den walk,  but  now  I  turned  to  see  in  Zara's  face  her  apprecia- 
tion of  what  we  had  just  heard.  To  my  surprise  she  had  left 
the  room.  Heliobas  reclined  in  his  easy-chair,  glancing  up  and 
down  the  columns  of  the  Figaro;  and  the  Prince  still  sat  at 
the  piano,  moving  his  fingers  idly  up  and  down  the  keys  with- 
out playing.  The  little  page  entered  with  a  letter  on  a  silver 
salver.  It  was  for  his  master.  Heliobas  read  it  quickly,  and 
rose,  saying: 

"I  must  leave  you  to  entertain  yourselves  for  ten  minutes 
while  I  answer  this  letter.  Will  you  excuse  me?"  and  with  the 
ever-courteous  salute  to  us  which  was  ])art  of  his  manner,  he 
left  the  room. 

I  still  remained  at  the  window.  Prince  Ivan  still  dumbly 
played  the  piano.  There  were  a  few  minutes  of  absolute  si- 
lence. Then  the  Prince  hastily  got  uj),  shut  tlio  piano,  and 
approached  me. 

'"'Do  you  know  where  Zara  is?"  he  demanded  in  a  low,  fierce 
tone. 

I  looked  at  him  in  surprise  and  a  little  alarm — he  spoke  witli 


112  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

SO  much  suppressed  anger,  and  his  eyes  glittered  so  strangely. 

"No,"  I  answered  frankly.  "I  never  saw  her  leave  the 
room." 

''I  did,"  he  said.    "She  slipped  out  like  a  ghost,  or  a  witcli, ' 
or  an  angel,  while  I  was  singing  the  last  verse  of  Swinburne's 
song.    Do  you  know  Swinburne,  mademoiselle?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  wondering  at  his  manner  more  and  more. 
*'I  only  know  him  as  you  do,  to  be  a  poet." 

"Poet,  madman,  or  lover — all  three  should  be  one  and  the 
same  thing,"  muttered  the  Prince,  clenching  and  unclenching 
that  strong  right  hand  of  his  on  which  sparkled  a  diamond 
like  a  star.  "I  have  often  wondered  if  poets  feel  what  they 
write — whether  Swinburne,  for  instance,  ever  felt  the  weight 
of  a  dead  cold  thing  within  him  here,"  slightly  touching  the  re- 
gion of  his  heart,  "and  realized  that  he  had  to  drag  that  corpse 
of  unburied  love  with  him  everywhere — even  to  the  grave,  and 
beyond — 0  God! — beyond  the  grave!" 

I  touched  him  gently  on  the  arm.  I  was  full  of  pity  for 
him — his  despair  was  so  bitter  and  keen. 

"Prince  Ivan,"  I  said,  "you  are  excited  and  overwrought. 
Zara  meant  no  slight  to  you  in  leaving  the  room  before  your 
song  was  finished.  I  am  quite  sure  of  that.  She  is  kindness 
itself — her  nature  is  all  sweetness  and  gentleness.  She  would 
not  willingly  offend  you " 

"Offend  me!"  he  exclaimed;  "she  could  not  offend  me  if  she 
tried.  She  could  tread  upon  me,  stab  me,  slay  me,  but  never 
offend  me.  I  see  3^ou  are  sorry  for  me — and'I  thank  you.  I 
kiss  your  hand  for  your  gentle  pity,  mademoiselle." 

And  he  did  so,  with  a  knightly  grace  that  became  him  well. 
I  thought  his  momentary  anger  was  passing,  but  I  was  mis- 
taken. Suddenly  he  raised  his  arm  with  a  fierce  gesture,  and 
exclaimed: 

"By  heaven!  I  will  wait  no  longer.  I  am  a  fool  to  hesitate. 
I  may  wait  a  century  before  I  draw  out  of  Casimir  the  secret 
that  would  enable  me  to  measure  swords  with  my  rival.  Lis- 
ten!" and  he  grasped  my  shoulder  roughly.  "Stay  here,  you! 
If  Casimir  returns,  tell  him  I  have  gone  for  a  walk  of  half  an 
hour.  Play  to  him — keep  him  occupied — be  my  friend  in  this 
one  thing — I  trust  you.  Lot  him  not  seek  for  Zara,  or  for  me. 
I  shall  not  be  long  absent." 

"Stay!"  I  whispered  hurriedly.     "What  are  you  going  to 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  113 

do?  Surely  you  know  .the  power  of  Heliobas.  He  is  supreme 
here.    He  could  find  out  anything  he  chose.    He  could " 

Prince  Ivan  looked  at  me  lixedly. 

"Will  you  swear  to  me  that  you  actually  do  not  know?" 

"Know  what?"  I  asked,  per])lexed. 

He  laughed  bitterly,  sarcastically. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  that  line  of  poetry  which  speaks  of  'A 
woman  wailing  for  her  demon-lover?'  That  is  what  Zara  does. 
Of  one  thing  I  am  certain — she  does  not  wail  or  wait  long;  he 
comes  quickly." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  I  exclaimed,  utterly  mystified. 
"Who  comes  quickly?  I  am  sure  you  do  not  knoAV  what  you 
arc  talking  about." 

"I  do  know,"  he  replied  firmly;  "and  I  am  going  to  prove 
my  knowledge.  Eemember  what  I  have  asked  you."  And 
without  another  word  or  look,  he  threw  open  the  velvet  cur- 
tains of  the  portiere,  and  disappeared  behind  them. 

Left  to  myself,  I  felt  very  nervous  and  excited.  All  sorts 
of  odd  fancies  came  into  my  head,  and  would  not  go  away,  but 
danced  about  like  Will-o'-the-wisps  on  a  morass.  What  did 
Prince  Ivan  mean?  Was  he  mad?  or  had  he  drunk  too  much 
wine?  What  strange  illusion  had  he  in  his  mind  about  Zara 
and  a  demon?  Suddenly  a  thought  flashed  upon  me  that 
made  me  tremble  from  head  to  foot.  I  remembered  what  Hel- 
iobas had  said  about  twin  flames  and  dual  aSinities;  and  I 
also  reflected  that  he  had  declared  Zara  to  be  dominated  by  a 
more  powerful  force  than  his  own.  But  then,  I  had  accepted 
it  as  a  matter  of  course  that,  whatever  the  force  was,  it  must 
be  for  good,  not  evil,  over  a  being  so  pure,  so  lovely  and  so  in- 
telligent as  Zara. 

I  knew  and  felt  that  there  were  good  and  evil  forces.  Now, 
suppose  Zara  were  commanded  by  some  strange  evil  thing,  un- 
guessed  at,  undreamt  of  in  the  wildest  night-mare?  I  shud- 
dered as  with  icy  cold.  It  could  not  be.  I  resolutely  refused 
to  admit  such  a  fearful  conjecture.  ^Yhy,  I  thought  to  mVself, 
with  a  faint  smile,  I  was  no  better  in  my  imaginings  than  the 
so  virtuous  and  ever-respectable  Suzanne  Michot  of  whom 
I\Iadame  Denise  had  spoken.  Still  the  hateful  thought  came 
back  again  and  again,  and  refused  to  go  away. 

I  went  to  my  old  place  at  the  window  and  looked  out.  The 
moonlight  fell  in  cold  slanting  rays;  but  an  army  of  dark 
clouds  were  hurrying  up  from  the  horizon,  looking  in  their 

8 


114  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

weird  shapes  like  the  mounted  Walkyres  in  Wagner's  "Niebel- 
imgen  King,"  galloping  to  Walhalla  with  the  bodies  of  dead 
warriors  slung  before  them.  A  low  moaning  wind  had  arisen, 
and  was  beginning  to  sob  round  the  house  like  the  Banshee. 
Hark!  what  was  that?  I  started  violently.  Surely  that  was 
a  faint  shriek?  I  listened  intently.  Nothing  but  the  wind 
rustling  among  some  creaking  branches. 

"A  woman  wailing  for  her  demon-lover." 

How  that  line  haunted  me!  And  with  it  there  slowly  grew 
up  in  my  mind  a  black  looming  horror;  an  idea,  vague  and 
ghastly,  that  froze  my  blood  and  turned  me  faint  and  giddy. 
SupjDOse,  when  I  had  consented  to  be  experimented  upon  by 
Heliobas — when  my  soul  in  the  electric  trance  was  lifted  up  to 
the  iinseen  world — suppose  an  evil  force,  terrible  and  all-com- 
pelling, were  to  dominate  me  and  hold  me  forever  and  ever! 
I  gasped  for  breath!    Oh,  so  much  the  more  need  of  prayer! 

"Pray  much  and  often,  with  as  unselfish  a  heart  as  you  can 
prepare." 

Thus  Heliobas  had  said;  and  I  thought  to  myself,  if  all 
those  who  were  on  the  brink  of  great  sin  or  crime  could  only 
be  brought  to  feel  beforehand  what  I  felt  when  facing  the 
spectral  dread  of  unknown  evil,  then  surely  sins  would  be 
fewer  and  crimes  never  committed.  And  I  murmured  softly, 
"Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil." 

The  mere  utterance  of  these  words  seemed  to  calm  and  en- 
courage me;  and  as  I  gazed  up  at  the  sky  again,  with  its  gath- 
ering clouds,  one  star,  like  a  bright  consoling  eye,  looked  at 
me,  glittering  cheerfully  amid  the  surrounding  darkness. 

More  than  ten  minutes  had  elapsed  since  Prince  Ivan  had 
left  the  room,  and  there  was  no  sound  of  returning  footsteps. 
And  where  was  Zara?  I  determined  to  seek  her.  I  was  free 
to  go  anywhere  in  the  house,  only  avoiding  her  studio  during 
her  hours  of  work;  and  she  never  Avorked  at  night.  I  would 
go  to  her,  and  confide  all  my  strange  thoughts  and 
terrors  to  her  friendly  sympaihy.  I  hurried  through  the 
hall  and  up  the  staircase  quickly,  and  should  have  gone 
straight  into  Zara's  boudoir,  had  I  uot  heard  a  sound  of  voices 
Avhich  caused  me  to  stop  precipitately  outside  the  door.  Zara 
was  speaking.  Her  low,  musical  accents  fell  like  a  silver  chime 
on  the  air.  • 

"I  have  told  you/'  she  said,  "again  and  again  that  it  is  im- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS,  115 

possible.  You  waste  your  life  in  the  pursuit  of  a  phantom; 
for  a  phantom  I  must  be  to  you  always — a  mere  dream,  not  a 
woman  such  as  your  love  would  satisfy.  You  are  a  strong  man, 
in  sound  health  and  spirits;  you  care  for  the  world  and  the 
things  that  are  in  it.  I  do  not.  You  would  make  me  happy, 
you  say.  No  doubt  you  would  do  your  best — your  wealth  and 
influence,  your  good  looks,  your  hospitable  and  friendly  na- 
ture would  make  most  women  happy.  But  what  should  I  care 
for  your  family  diamonds?  for  your  surroundings?  for  your 
ambitions?  The  society  of  the  world  fills  me  with  disgust  and 
prejudice.  Marriage,  as  the  world  considers  it,  shocks  and  out- 
rages my  self-respect;  the  idea  of  a  bodily  union  without  that 
of  souls  is  to  me  repulsive  and  loathsome.  Why,  therefore, 
waste  your  time  in  seeking  a  love  Avhich  does  not  exist,  which 
never  will  exist  for  you?" 

I  heard  the  deep,  passionate  tones  of  Prince  Ivan  in  an- 
swer: 

"One  light  kindles  another,  Zara!  The  sunlight  melts  the 
snoAv!  I  cannot  believe  but  that  a  long  and  faithful  love  may 
— nay,  must — have  its  reward  at  last.  Even  according  to  your 
brother's  theories,  the  em.otion  of  love  is  capable  of  powerful 
attraction.  Cannot  I  hope  that  my  passion — so  strong,  so 
great,  so  true,  Zara ! — will,  Avith  patience,  draw  you,  star  of  my 
life,  closer  and  closer,  till  I  at  last  call  you  mine?" 

I  heard  the  faint  rustle  of  Zara's  silk  robe,  as  though  she 
were  moving  farther  from  him. 

"You  speak  ignorantly.  Prince.  Your  studies  with  Casimir 
appear  to  have  brought  you  little  knowledge.  'Attraction! 
How  can  you  attract  what  is  not  in  your  sphere?  As  well  ask 
for  the  Moons  of  Jupiter  or  the  Eing  of  Saturn!  The  laws 
of  attraction  and  repulsion,  Prince  Ivan,  are  fixed  by  a  higher 
authority  than  yours,  and  you  are  as  powerless  to  alter  or  abate 
them  by  one  iota,  as  a  child  is  powerless  to  repel  the  advancing 
waves  of  the  sea." 

Prince  Ivan  spoke  again,  and  his  voice  quivered  with  sup- 
pressed anger. 

"You  may  talk  as  you  will,  beautiful  Zara;  but  you  shall 
never  persuade  me  against  my  reason.  I  am  no  dreamer;  no 
speculator  in  aerial  nothings;  no  clever  charlatan  like  Casimir, 
who,  because  he  is  able  to  magnetize  a  dog,  pretends  to  the 
same  authority  over  human  beings,  and  dares  to  risk  the 
health,  perhaps  the  very  sanity,  of  his  own  sisfeT,  and  that  of 


116  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

the  unfortunate  young  musician  whom  he  has  inveigled  in 
here,  all  for  the  sake  of  proving  his  dangerous,  almost  diabol- 
ical, experiments.  Oh,  yes;  I  see  you  are  indignant,  but  I 
speak  truth.  I  am  a  plain  man; — and  if  I  am  deficient  in  elec- 
tric germs,  as  Casimir  would  say,  I  have  plenty  of  common 
sense.  I  wish  to  rescue  you,  Zara.  You  are  becoming  a  prey 
to  morbid  fancies;  your  naturally  healthy  mind  is  full  of  ex- 
travagant notions  concerning  angels  and  demons  and  what 
not;  and  your  entire  belief  in,  and  enthusiasm  for,  your 
brother  is  a  splendid  advertisement  for  him.  Let  me  tear  the 
veil  of  credulity  from  your  eyes.  Let  me  teach  you  how  good 
a  thing  it  is  to  live  and  love  and  laugh  like  other  people,  and 
leave  electricity  to  the  telegraph-wires  and  the  lamp-posts." 

Again  I  heard  the  silken  rustle  of  Zara's  dress,  and,  im- 
pelled by  a  strong  curiosity  and  excitement,  I  raised  a  corner 
of  the  curtain  hanging  over  the  door,  and  was  able  to  see  the 
room  distinctly.  The  Prince  stood,  or  rather  lounged,  near 
the  window,  and  opposite  to  him  was  Zara;  she  had  evidently 
retreated  from  him  as  far  as  possible,  and  held  herself  proudly 
erect,  her  eyes  flashing  with  unusual  brilhancy  contrasted  with 
the  pallor  of  her  face. 

"Your  insults  to  my  brother.  Prince,"  she  said  calmly,  "I 
suffer  to  pass  by  me,  knowing  well  to  what  a  depth  of  wilful 
blind  ignorance  you  are  fallen.  I  pity  you — and — I  despise 
you!  You  are  indeed  a  plain  man,  as  you  say — nothing  more 
and  nothing  less.  You  can  take  advantage  of  the  hospitalit}' 
of  this  house,  and  pretend  friendship  to  the  host,  while  you 
slander  him  behind  his  back,  and  insult  his  sister  in  the  privacy 
of  her  own  apartment.  Very  manlike,  truly;  and  perfectly  in 
accordance  with  a  reasonable  being  who  likes  to  live  and  love 
and  laugh  according  to  the  rule  of  society — a  puppet  whose 
wires  society  pulls,  and  he  dances  or  dies  as  society  pleases. 
I  told  you  a  gulf  existed  between  us — you  have  widened  it, 
for  which  I  thank  you!  As  I  do  not  impose  an}'-  of  my  wishes 
upon  you,  and  therefore  cannot  request  you  to  leave  the  room, 
you  must  excuse  me  if  I  retire  elsewhere." 

And  she  approached  the  entrance  of  her  studio,  which  was 
opposite  to  where  I  stood;  but  the  Prince  reached  it  before 
her,  and  placed  his  back  against  it.  His  face  was  deathly 
pale,  and  his  dark  eyes  blazed  with  wrath  and  love  inter- 
mingled. 

^'No,  2ara!"  he  exclaimed  in  a  sort  of  loud  whisper,    "If 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS.  11? 

you  think  to  escape  me  so,  yon  are  in  error.  I  came  to  you 
reckless  and  resolved!  You  shall  he  mine  if  I  die  for  it!"  And 
he  strove  to  seize  her  in  his  arms.  But  she  escaped  him  and 
stood  at  ba}^,  her  lips  quivering,  her  bosom  heaving,  and  her 
liands  clenched. 

"I  warn  you!"  she  exclaimed.  "By  the  intense  loathing  T 
have  for  you;  by  the  force  which  makes  my  spirit  rise  in  arms 
against  you,  I  warn  you!  Do  not  dare  to  touch  me!  If  you 
care  for  your  own  life,  leave  me  while  there  is  time!" 

iNever  had  she  looked  so  supremely,  terribly  beautiful.  I 
gazed  at  her  from  my  corner  of  the  doorway,  awed,  yet  fasci- 
nated. The  jewel  on  her  breast  glowed  with  an  angry  red 
lustre,  and  shot  forth  dazzling  opaline  rays,  as  though  it  were 
a  sort  of  living,  breathing  star.  Prince  Ivan  paused — en- 
tranced no  doubt,  as  I  was,  by  her  unearthly  loveliness.  His 
face  flushed — he  gave  a  low  laugh  of  admiration.  Then  he 
made  two  swift  strides  forward  and  caught  her  fiercely  in  his 
embrace.  His  triumph  was  brief.  Scarcely  had  his  strong 
arm  clasped  her  waist,  when  it  fell  numb  and  powerless — 
scarcely  had  his  eager  lips  stooped  towards  hers,  when  he 
reeled  and  sank  heavily  on  the  ground,  senseless!  The  spell 
that  had  held  me  a  silent  spectator  of  the  scene  was  broken. 
Terrified,  I  rushed  into  the  room,  crying  out: 

"Zara,  Zara!    What  have  you  done?" 

Zara  turned  her  eyes  gently  upon  me — they  were  soft  and 
humid  as  though  recently  filled  v/ith  tears.  All  the  burning 
scorn  and  indignation  had  gone  out  of  her  face — she  looked 
pityingly  at  the  prostrate  form  of  her  admirer, 

"He  is  not  dead,"  she  said  quietly.    "I  will  call  Casimir." 

I  knelt  beside  the  Prince  and  raised  liis  hand.  It  was  cold 
and  heavy.  His  lips  were  blue,  and  liis  closed  eyelids  looked 
as  though,  in  the  words  of  Homer,  "Death's  purple  finger" 
had  shut  them  fast  forever.  No  breath — no  pulsation  of  the 
heart.    I  looked  fearfully  at  Zara.    She  smiled  half  sadly. 

"He  is  not  dead,"  she  repeated. 

"Are  you  sure?"  I  murmured.  "What  was  it,  Zara,  that 
made  him  fall?  I  was  at  the  door — I  saw  and  heard  every- 
thing." 

"I  know  you  did,"  said  Zara  gently;  "and  I  am  glad  of  it. 
I  wished  you  to  see  and  hear  all." 

"Is  it  a  fit,  do  you  think?"  I  asked  again,  looking  sorrow- 


118  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

fully  at  the  satl  face  of  the  iinfortimate  Ivan,  which  seemed 
to  me  to  have  already  graveji  upon  it  the  stern  sweet  smile  of 
those  who  have  passed  all  passion  and  pain  forever.  "Oh, 
Zara!  do  yon  believe  he  will  recover?"  And  tears  choked  my 
voice — tears  of  compassion  and  regret. 

Zara  came  and  kissed  me. 

"Yes,  he  will  recover — do  not  fret,  little  one.  I  have  rung 
my  private  bell  for  Casimir;  he  will  be  here  directly.  The 
Prince  has  had  a  shock — not  a  fatal  one,  as  you  will  see.  You 
look  doubtful — are  you  afraid  of  me,  dear?" 

I  gazed  at  her  earnestly.  Those  clear  childlike  eyes — that 
frank  smile — that  gentle  and  dignified  mien — could  they  ac- 
company evil  thoughts?  ISTo!  I  was  sure  Zara  was  good  as 
she  was  lovely. 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  Zara,"  I  said  gravely;  'T  love  you 
too  well  for  that.  But  I  am  sorry  for  the  poor  Prince;  and  I 
cannot  understand " 

"You  cannot  understand  Avhy  those  who  trespass  against 
fixed  laws  should  suffer?"  observed  Zara  calmly.  "Well,  you 
Avill  understand  some  day.  You  will  know  that  in  one  way  or 
another  it  is  the  reason  of  all  sufl'ering,  both  physical  and 
mental,  in  the  world." 

I  said  no  more,  but  waited  in  silence  till  the  sound  of  a 
firm  approaching  footstep  announced  Heliobas.  He  entered 
the  room  quickly — glanced  at  the  motionless  form  of  the 
Prince,  then  at  me,  and  lastly  at  his  sister. 

"Has  he  been  long  thus?"  he  asked  in  a  low  tone. 

"Not  five  minutes,"  replied  Zara. 

A  pitying  and  affectionate  gentleness  of  expression  filled  his 
keen  eyes. 

"Pecklcss  boy!"  ho  murmured  softly,  as  he  stooped  and  laid 
one  hand  lightly  on  Ivan's  breast.  "He  is  the  very  type  of 
misguided  human  braverv.  l^ou  were  too  hard  upon  him, 
Zara!" 

Zara  sighed. 

"He  spoke  against  you,"  she  said. 

"Of  course  he  did,"  returned  her  brother  with  a  smile. 
"And  it  was  perfectly  natural  he  should  do  so.  Have  I  not 
read  his  thoughts?  Do  not  I  know  that  he  considers  me  a 
false  pretender  and  charlatan?  And  have  I  not  humored 
him?  In  this  he  is  no  worse  than  any  one  of  his  race.  Every 
great  scientific  discovery  is  voted  impossible  at  the  first  start. 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  119 

Ivan  is  not  to  blame  because  he  is  like  the  rest  of  the  world. 
He  will  be  wiser  in  time." 

"He  attempted  to  force  his  desires,"  began  Zara  again,  and 
her  cheeks  flushed  indignanth^ 

"I  know,"  answered  her  brother.  "I  foresaw  how  it  would 
be,  but  was  powerless  to  prevent  it.  He  was  wrong — but  bold ! 
Such  boldness  compels  a  certain  admiration.  This  fellow 
would  scale  the  stars,  if  he  knew  how  to  do  it,  by  physical  force 
alone." 

I  grew  impatient  and  interrupted  these  remarks. 

"Perhaps  he  is  scaling  the  stars  now,"  I  said;  "or  at  any  rate 
he  will  do  so  if  death  can  show  him  the  way." 

Heliobas  gave  me  a  friendly  glance. 

"You  also  are  growing  courageous  when  you  can  speak  to 
your  physician  thus  abruptly,"  he  observed  quietly.  "Death 
has  nothing  to  do  with  our  friend  as  yet,  I  assure  you.  Zara, 
you  had  better  leave  us.  Your  face  must  not  be  the  first  for 
Ivan's  eyes  to  rest  upon.     You,"  nodding  to  me,  "can  stay." 

Zara  pressed  my  hand  gently  as  she  passed  me,  and  entered 
her  studio,  the  door  of  which  closed  behind  her,  and  I  heard 
the  key  turn  in  the  lock.  I  became  absorbed  in  the  proceed- 
ings of  Heliobas.  Stooping  towards  the  recumbent  form  of 
Prince  Ivan,  he  took  the  heavy  lifeless  hands  firmly  in  his  own, 
and  then  fixed  his  eyes  fully  and  steadily  on  the  pale,  set 
features  with  an  expression  of  the  most  forcible  calm  and  ab- 
solutely undeniable  authority.  Xot  one  vrord  did  he  utter,  but 
remained  motionless  as  a  statue  in  the  attitude  thus  assumed — 
he  seemed  scarcely  to  breathe — not  a  muscle  of  his  counte- 
nance moved.  Perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  seconds  might  have 
elapsed,  when  a  warm  tinge  of  color  came  back  to  the  appar- 
ently dead  face — the  brows  twitched — the  lips  quivered  and 
parted  in  a  heavy  sigh.  The  bruised  appearance  of  the  eye- 
lids gave  place  to  the  natural  tint — they  opened,  disclosiiig 
the  e3^es,  which  stared  directly  into  those  of  the  compelling 
Master  who  thus  forced  their  obedience.  A  strong  shudder 
shook  the  young  man's  frame;  his  before  nerveless  hands 
grasped  those  of  Heliobas  with  force  and  fervor,  and  still 
meeting  that  steady  look  which  seemed  to  pierce  the  very  cen- 
ter of  his  system,  Prince  Ivan,  like  Lazarus  of  old,  arose  and 
stood  erect.  As  he  did  so,  Heliobas  withdrew  his  eyes,  dropped 
his  hands  and  smiled. 


120  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"You  are  better,  Ivan?"  he  inquired  kindly. 

The  Prince  looked  about  him,  bewildered.  He  passed  one 
hand  across  his  forehead  without  replying.  Then  he  turned 
slightly  and  perceived  me  in  the  window-embrasure,  whither 
I  had  retreated  in  fear  and  wonderment  at  the  marvellous 
power  of  Heliobas,  thus  openly  and  plainly  displayed. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  addressing  me,  "have  I  been  dreaming?" 

1  could  not  answer  him.  I  was  glad  to  see  him  recover,  yet 
I  was  a  little  afraid.  .Heliobas  pushed  a  chair  gently  towards 
him. 

"Sit  down,  Ivan,"  he  said  quietly. 

The  Prince  obeyed,  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hand  as 
though  in  deep  and  earnest  meditation,  I  looked  on  in  si- 
lence and  wonderment.  Heliobas  spoke  not  another  word, 
and  together  we  watched  the  pensive  figure  in  the  chair,  so 
absorbed  in  serious  thought.  Some  minutes  passed.  The 
gentle  tick  of  the  clock  in  the  outer  hall  grew  almost  obtru- 
sive, so  loud  did  it  seem  in  the  utter  stillness  that  surrounded 
us.  I  longed  to  speak — to  ask  questions — to  proffer  sympatliy 
— but  dared  not  move  or  utter  a  syllable.  Suddenly  the  Prince 
rose;  his  manner  was  calm  and  dignified,  yet  touched  with  a 
strange  humility.  He  advanced  to  Heliobas,  holding  out  his 
hand. 

"Forgive  me,  Casimir!"  he  said  simply. 

Heliobas  at  once  grasped  the  proffered  palm  within  his 
own,  and  looked  at  the  young  man  with  an  almost  fatherly  ten- 
derness, 

"Say  no  more,  Ivan,"  he  returned,  his  rich  voice  sounding 
more  than  usually  mellow  in  its  warmth  and  heartiness.  "We 
must  all  learn  before  we  can  know,  and  some  of  our  lessons 
are  sharp  and  difficult.  Whatever  you  have  thought  of  me, 
remember  I  have  not,  and  do  not,  blame  you.  To  be  offended 
with  unbelievers  is  to  show  that  you  are  not  yourself  quite 
sure  of  the  faith  to  which  you  would  compel  them." 

"I  would  ask  you  one  thing,"  went  on  the  Prince,  speaking 
in  a  low  tone.  "Do  not  let  me  stay  to  fall  into  fresh  errors. 
Teach  me — guide  me.  Casimir;  I  will  be  the  most  docile  of 
your  pupils.    As  for  Zara " 

He  paused,  as  if  overcome. 

"Come  with  me,"  said  Heliobas,  taking  his  arm;  "a  glass 
of  good  wine  will  invigorate  you.  It  is  better  to  see  Zara  no 
more  for  a  time.    Let  me  take  charge  of  you.    You,  mademoi- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS,  121 

selle,"  turning  to  me,  "will  be  kind  enough  to  tell  Zara  that 
the  Prince  has  recovered,  and  sends  her  a  friendly  good-night. 
Will  that  message  suffice?"  he  inquired  of  Ivan,  with  a  smile. 

The  Prince  looked  at  me  with  a  sort  of  wistful  gravity  as  I 
came  forward  to  bid  him  farewell. 

'"You  will  embrace  her,"  he  said  slowly,  "without  fea-r.  Her 
eyes  will  rain  sunshine  upon  you;  they  will  not  dart  lightning. 
Her  lips  will  meet  yours,  and  their  touch  will  be  warm — not 
cold,  as  sharp  steel.  Yes;  bid  her  good-night  for  me;  tell  bei- 
that  an  erring  man  kisses  the  hem  of  her  robe,  and  prays  her 
for  pardon.  Tell  her  that  I  understand;  tell  her  I  ha^'e  seen 
her  lover!" 

With  these  words,  uttered  distinctly  and  emphatically,  be 
turned  away  with  Heliobas,  who  still  held  him  by  the  arm  in 
a  friendly,  half-protecting  manner.  The  tears  stood  in  my 
eyes.    I  called  softly: 

"Good-night,  Prince  Ivan!" 

He  looked  back  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Good-night,  mademoiselle!" 

Heliobas  also  looked  back  and  gave  me  an  encouraging  nod, 
which  meant  several  things  at  once,  such  as  "Do  not  bo  anx- 
ious," "He  will  be  all  right  soon,"  and  "Always  believe  the 
best."  I  watched  their  two  figures  disappear  through  the 
doorway,  and  then,  feeling  almost  cheerful  again,  I  knocked 
at  the  door  of  Zara's  studio.  Slie  opened  it  at  once,  and  came 
out.  I  delivered  the  Prince's  message,  word  for  word,  as  he 
had  given  it.    She  listened,  and  sighed  deepl3^ 

"Are  you  sorry  for  him,  Zara?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  she  replied;  "I' am  sorry  for  him  as  far  as  I  can  be 
sorry  for  anything.  I  am  never  actually  very  sorry  for  any 
circumstances,  however  grievous  they  may  appear." 

I  was  surprised  at  this  avowal. 

"Why,  Zara,"  I  said,  "I  thought  you  were  so  keenlv  svmpa- 
thetic?"  ■  '     ■ 

"So  I  am  sympathetic,  but  only  with  suffering  ignorance — 
a  dying  bird  that  knows  not  why  it  should  die — a  withering 
rose  that  sees  not  the  reason  for  its  witliering;  but  for  human 
beings  who  wilfully  blind  themselves  to  the  teachings  of  their 
own  instincts,  and  are  always  doing  what  they  know  they 
ought  not  to  do  in  spite  of  warning.  I  cannot  say  I  am  sorry. 
And  for  Ihose  who  do  study  the  causes  and  ultimate  results 


122  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

of  their  existence,  there  is  no  occasion  to  be  sorry,  as  they  are 
perfectly  happy,  knowing  everything  that  happens  to  them  to 
he  for  their  advancement  and  justification." 

"Tell  me,"  I  asked  with  a  little  hesitation,  "what  did  Prince 
Ivan  mean  by  saying  he  had  seen  your  lover,  Zara?" 

"He  meant  what  he  said,  I  suppose,"  replied  Zara,  with  sud- 
den coldness.  "Excuse  me,  I  thought  you  said  you  were  not 
inquisitive." 

I  could  not  bear  this  change  of  tone  in  her,  and  I  clasped 
my  arms  tight  about  her  and  smiled  in  her  face. 

"You  shall  not  get  angry  with  me,  Zara.  I  am  not  going 
to  be  treated  like  poor  Ivan.  I  have  found  out  what  you  arc, 
and  how  dangerous  it  is  to  admire  you;  but  I  do  admire  and 
love  you.  And  I  defy  you  to  knock  me  down  as  uncere- 
mouiously  as  you  did  the  Prince — you  beautiful  living  bit  of 
Lightning!" 

Zara  moved  restlessly  in  my  embrace,  but  I  held  her  fast. 
At  the  last  epithet  I  bestowed  on  her,  she  grew  very  pale;  but 
her  eyes  resembled  the  jewels  on  her  breast  in  their  sheeny 
glitter. 

"What  have  you  fourd  out?"  she  murmured.  "What  do 
you  know?" 

"I  cannot  say  I  know,"  I  went  on  boldly,  still  keeping  my 
arms  round  her;  "but  I  have  made  a  guess  which  1  think 
comes  near  the  truth.  Your  brother  has  had  the  care  of  you 
ever  since  you  were  a  little  child,  and  I  believe  he  has,  by  some 
method  known  only  to  himself,  charged  you  with  electricity. 
Yes,  Zara,"  for  she  had  started  and  tried  to  loosen  my  hold  of 
her;  "and  it  is  that  which  keeps  you  young  and  fresh  as  a 
gii'l  of  sixteen,  at  an  age  when  other  women  lose  their  bloom 
and  grow  wrinkles.  It  is  that  which  gives  you  the  power  to 
impart  a  repelling  shock  to  people  you  dislike,  as  in  the  case 
of  Prince  Ivan.  It  is  that  which  gives  you  such  an  attractive 
force  for  those  with  whom  you  have  a  little  sympathy — such  as 
myself,  for  instance;  and  you  cannot,  Zara,  with  all  your  elec- 
tric strength,  unclasp  my  arms  from  3'our  waist,  because  you 
have  not  the  sentiment  of  repulsion  towards  me  which  would 
enable  you  to  do  it.    Shall  I  go  on  guessing?" 

Zara  made  a  sign  of  assent — the  expression  of  her  face  had 
softened,  and  a  dimpling  smile  played  round  the  corners  of  her 
mouth. 

"Yotir  lover,"  I  went  on  steadily  and  slowly,  "is  a  native  of 


A    ROr.IANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  123 

sonif  other  r-plierc — perhaps  a  creation  of  your  own  fancy — 
perhaps  (for  I  will  not  be  skeptical  any  more)  a  beautiful  and 
all-powerful  angelic  spirit.  I  will  not  discuss  this  with  you.  1 
believe  that  when  Prince  Ivan  fell  senseless,  he  saw,  or  fancied 
he  saw,  that  nameless  being.  And  now,"  I  added,  loosening 
my  clasp  of  her,  "have  1  guessed  well?" 

Zara  looked  meditative. 

"1  do  not  know,"  she  said,  "why  you  should  imagine " 

"Stop!"  I  exclaimed;  "there  is  no  imagination  in  the  case. 
I  have  reasoned  it  out.  Here  is  a  book  1  found  in  the  library 
on  electric  organs  as  they  are  discovered  to  exist  in  certain 
fish.  Listen:  'They  are  nervous  apparatuses  which  in  the 
arrangement  of  their  parts  may  be  compared  to  a  Voltaic  pile. 
Thev  develop  electricity  and  give  electrical  discharges.' " 

"Well!"  said  Zara. 

"You  say  'Well!'  as  if  you  did  not  know!"  I  exclaimed  half- 
angrily,  half-la ughingly.  "These  fish  have  helped  me  to  un- 
derstand a  great  deal,  I  assure  you.  Your  brother  must  have 
discovered  the  seed  or  commencement  of  electrical  organs  like 
those  described  in  the  human  body;  and  he  has  cultivated 
them  in  you  and  in  himself,  and  has  brought  them  to  a  high 
state  of  perfection.  He  has  cultivated  them  in  Eaffaello  Cel- 
lini, and  he  is  beginning  to  cultivate  them  in  me,  and  I  hope 
most  sincerely  he  will  succeed.  I  think  his  theory  is  a  mag- 
nificent one!" 

Zara  gazed  seriously  at  me,  and  her  large  eyes  seemed  to 
grow  darker  with  the  intensity  of  her  thought. 

"Supposing  you  had  reasoned  out  the  matter  correctly,"  she 
said — "and  I  will  not  deny  that  you  have  done  a  great  deal 
towards  the  comprehension  of  it — have  you  no  fear?  do  you 
not  include  some  drawbacks  in  even  Casimir's  learning  such  a 
secret,  and  being  able  to  cultivate  and  educate  such  a  deadly 
force  as  that  of  electricity  in  the  human  being?" 

"If  it  is  deadly,  it  is  also  life-giving,"  I  answered.  "Eeme- 
dies  are  also  poisons.  You  laid  the  Prince  senseless  at  your 
feet,  but  your  brother  raised  him  up  again.  Both  these  things 
were  done  by  electricity.  I  can  understand  it  all  now;  I  see 
no  obscuritv,  no  mystery.  And  oh,  what  a  superb  discovery 
it  is!" 

Zara  smiled. 

"You  enthusiast!"  she  said,  "it  is  nothing  new.  It  was  well 
known  to  the  ancient  Chaldeans.    It  was  known  to  Moses  and 


lU  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

his  followers;  it  was  practiced  in  perfection  by  Christ  and  His 
disciples.  To  modern  civilization  it  may  seem  a  discovery,  he- 
cause  the  tendency  of  all  so-called  progress  is  to  forget  the 
past.  The  scent  of  tlie  human  savage  is  extraordinarily  keen 
— keener  than  that  of  any  animal — he  can  follow  a  track  un- 
erringly by  some  odor  he  is  able  to  detect  in  the  air.  Again, 
he  can  lay  back  his  ears  to  the  wind  and  catch  a  faint,  far- 
off  sound  with  certainty  and  precision,  and  tell  you  what  it  is. 
Civilized  beings  have  forgotten  all  this;  they  can  neither  smell 
nor  hear  with  actual  keenness.  Just  in  the  same  way,  they 
have  forgotten  the  use  of  the  electrical  organs  they  all  indu- 
bitably possess  in  large  or  minute  degree.  As  the  muscles  of 
the  arm  are  developed  by  practice,  so  can  the  wonderful  in- 
ternal electrical  apparatus  of  man  be  strengthened  and  en- 
larged by  use.  The  world  in  its  youth  knew  this;  the  world 
in  its  age  forgets,  as  an  old  man  forgets  or  smiles  disdainfully 
at  the  past  sports  of  his  childhood.  But  do  not  let  us  talk  any 
]nore  to-niglit.    If  you  think  your  ideas  of  me  are  correct " 

''I  am  sure  they  are!"  I  cried  triumphantly. 

Zara  held  out  her  arms  to  me. 

"And  you  are  sure  you  love  me?"  she  asked. 

I  nestled  into  her  embrace  and  kissed  her. 

"Sure!"  I  answered.  "Zara,  I  love  you  and  honor  you  more 
than  any  woman  I  ever  met  or  ever  shall  meet.  And  you  love 
me — I  know  you  do!" 

"How  can  I  help  it?"  she  said.  "Are  you  not  one  of  us? 
Good-night,  dearest!     Sleep  well!" 

"Good-night!"  I  answered.  "And  remember  Prince  Ivan 
asked  for  your  pardon." 

"I  remember!"  she  replied  softly.  "I  have  already  pardoned 
him,  and  I  will  pray  for  him."  And  a  sort  of  radiant  pity  and 
forbearance  ilhimined  her  lovely  features,  as  we  parted  for 
the  night.  So  might  an  angel  look  on  some  repentant  sinner 
])leading  for  Heaven's  forgiveness. 

I  lay  awake  for  some  time  that  night,  endeavoring  to  follow 
out  the  track  of  thought  I  had  entered  upon  in  my  conversa- 
tion with  Zara.  With  such  electricity  as  Heliobas  practiced, 
once  admitting  that  human  electric  force  existed,  a  fact  which 
no  reasoning  person  could  deny,  all  things  were  possible.  Even 
a  knowledge  of  superhuman  events  might  be  attained,  if  there 
were  anything  in  the  universe  that  was  superhuman;  and 
surely  it  would  be  arrogant  and  ignorant  to  refuse  to  con- 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS.  125 

template  such  a  probability.  At  one  time  people  mocked 
at  the  wild  idea  that  a  message  could  hash  in  a  moment  of  time 
from  one  side  of  the  Atlantic  to  the  other  by  means  of  a  cable 
laid  under  the  sea;  now  that  it  is  an  established  fact,  the  world 
lias  grown  accustomed  to  it,  and  has  ceased  to  regard  it  as  a 
wonder.  Granting  human  electricity  to  exist,  why  should  not 
a  communication  be  established,  like  a  sort  of  spiritual  Atlan- 
tic cable,  between  man  and  the  beings  of  other  spheres  and 
other  solar  systems?  The  more  I  reliocted  on  the  subject  the 
more  lost  I  became  in  daring  speculations  concerning  that 
other  world,  to  which  I  was  soon  to  be  lifted.  Then  in  a  sort 
of  half-doze,  I  fancied  I  saw  an  interminable  glittering  chain 
of  vivid  light  composed  of  circles  that  were  all  looped  one  in 
another,  which  seemed  to  sweep  round  the  realms  of  space  and 
to  tie  up  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars  like  flowers  in  a  ribbon  of 
hre.  After  much  anxious  and  humble  research,  I  found  my- 
self to  be  one  of  the  smallest  links  in  this  great  chain.  I  do 
not  know  whether  I  was  grateful  or  afraid  at  this  discovery, 
for  sleep  put  an  end  to  my  drowsy  fancies,  and  dropped  a  dark 
curtain  over  my  waking  dreams. 


CHAPTER  X. 
MY  STRANGE  DEPARTURE. 

The  next  morning  brought  me  two  letters;  one  from  ]\Irs. 
Everard,  telling  me  that  she  and  the  Colonel  had  resolved  on 
coming  to   Paris. 

''All  the  nice  people  are  going  away  from  here,"  she  wrote. 
"Madame  Didier  and  her  husband  have  started  for  Xaples; 
and,  to  crown  our  lonesomeness,  Eaffaello  Cellini  packed  up 
all  his  traps,  and  left  us  yesterday  morning  en  route  for 
Rome.  The  weather  continues  to  be  delicious;  but  as  you 
seem  to  be  getting  on  so  well  in  Paris,  in  spite  of  the  cold 
there,  we  have  made  up  our  minds  to  Join  you,  the  more 
especially  as  I  want  to  renovate  my  wardrobe.  We  shall  go 
straight  to  the  Grand  Hotel;  and  I  am  vvTiting  to  Mrs.  Chal- 
loner  by  tliis  post,  asking  her  to  get  us  rooms.  We  are 
so  glad  you  are  feeling  nearly  recovered — of  course,  you 
must  not  leave  your  physician  till  you  are  quite  ready.  At 
ftny  rate,  we  shall  not  arrive  tiU  the  end  of  UQ^X  weeli," 


126  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

I  began  to  calculate.  During  that  strange  interview  in  the 
chapel,  Heliobas  had  said  that  in  eight  days  more  I  should 
be  strong  enough  to  undergo  the  transmigration  he  h^d 
promised  to  effect  upon  me.  Those  eight  days  were  now 
completed  on  this  very  morning,  I  was  glad  of  this;  for  I 
did  not  care  to  see  Mrs.  Everard  or  anyone  till  the  experi- 
ment was  over.  The  other  letter  I  received  was  from  Mrs. 
Challoner,  who  asked  me  to  give  an  "Improvisation"  at  the 
Grand  Hotel  that  day  fortnight. 

When  I  went  down  to  breakfast,  I  mentioned  both  these 
letters,  and  said,  addressing  myself  to  Heliobas: 

"Is  it  not  rather  a  sudden  freak  of  Eaffaello  Cellini's  to 
leave  Cannes?  We  all  thought  he  was  settled  for  the  winter 
there.     Did  you  know  he  was  going  to  Eome?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Heliobas,  as  he  stirred-  his  coffee  abstract- 
edly. "I  knew  he  was  going  there  some  day  this  month;  his 
presence  is  required  there  on  business." 

"And  are  you  going  to  give  the  Improvisation  this  Mrs. 
Challoner  asks  you  for?"  inquired  Zara. 

I  glanced  at  Heliobas.     He  answered  for  me. 

"I  should  certainly  give  it  if  I  were  you,"  he  said  quietly: 
"there  will  be  nothing  to  prevent  your  doing  so  at  the  date 
named." 

I  was  relieved.  I  had  not  been  altogether  able  to  divest 
myself  of  the  idea  that  I  might  possibly  never  come  out 
alive  from  the  electric  trance  to  which  I  had  certainly  con- 
sented; and  this  assurance  on  the  part  of  Heliobas  was  un- 
doubtedly comforting.  We  were  all  very  silent  that  morning; 
we  all  wore  grave  and  preoccupied  expressions.  Zara  was 
very  pale,  and  appeared  lost  in  thought.  Heliobas,  too, 
looked  slightly  careworn,  as  though  he  had  been  up  all  night, 
engaged  in  some  brain-exhausting  labor.  No  mention  was 
made  of  Prince  Ivan;  we  avoided  his  name  by  a  sort  of  secret 
mutual  understanding.  When  the  breakfast  was  over,  I  looked 
with  a  fearless  smile  at  the  calm  face  of  Heliobas,  which  ap- 
peared nobler  and  more  dignified  than  ever  with  that  slight 
touch  of  sadness  upon  it,  and  said  softly: 

"The  eight  days  are  accomplished!" 

He  met  my  gaze  fully,  with  a  steady  and  serious  observa- 
tion of  my  features,  and  replied: 

"My  child,  I  am  aware  of  it.  I  expect  you  in  my  private 
room  at  noon.    In  the  meantime  speak  to  no  one — not  even 


A   ROMANCE    OP   TWO    WORLDS.  127 

!(••  Zara;  read  no  books;  touch  no  note  of  music.  The  chapel 
has  been  prepared  for  you;  go  there  and  pray.  When  you 
^c'c  a  small  point  of  light  touch  the  extreme  edge  of  the  cross 
upon  the  altar,  it  will  be  twelve  o'clock,  and  you  will  then 
come  to  me." 

With  these  words,  uttered  in  a  grave  and  earnest  tone,  he 
k'lL  me.  A  sensation  of  sudden  awe  stole  upon  me.  I  looked 
at  Zara.  She  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips  and  smiled,  enjoining 
silence;  then  drawing  my  hand  close  within  her  own,  she  led 
me  to  the  door  of  the  chapel.  There  she  took  a  soft  veil  of 
some  white  transparent  fabric,  and  flung  it  over  me,  embrac- 
ing and  kissing  me  tenderly  as  she  did  so,  but  uttering  no 
word.  Taldng  my  hand  again,  she  entered  the  chapel  with 
me,  and  accompanied  me  through  what  seemed  a  blaze  of 
light  and  color  to  the  high  altar,  before  which  was  placed 
a  prie-dieu  of  crimson  velvet.  Motioning  me  to  kneel,  she 
kissed  me  once  more  through  the  filmy  veil  that  covered 
me  from  head  to  foot;  then  turning  noiselessly  away  she  dis- 
appeared, and  I  heard  the  heavy  oaken  door  close  behind 
her.  Left  alone,  I  was  able  to  quietly  take  note  of  every- 
thing around  me.  The  altar  before  which  I  knelt  was  ablaze 
with  lighted  candles,  and  a  wealth  of  the  purest  white  flowers 
decorated  it,  mingling  their  delicious  fragrance  with  the 
faintly  perceptible  odor  of  incense.  On  all  sides  of  the 
chapel,  in  every  little  niche,  and  at  every  shrine,  tapers  were 
burning  like  fireflies  in  a  summer  twilight.  At  the  foot  of  the 
large  crucifix,  which  occupied  a  somewhat  shadowy  corner, 
lay  a  wreath  of  magnificent  crimson  roses.  It  would  seem  as 
though  some  high  festival  were  about  to  be  celebrated,  and 
I  ga/ed  around  me  with  a  beating  heart,  half  expecting  some 
invisible  touch  to  awaken  the  notes  of  the  organ  and  a  chorus 
of  spirit-voices  to  respond  with  the  "(Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo!" 
But  there  was  silence — absolute,  beautiful,  restful  silence.  I 
strove  to  collect  my  thoughts,  and  turning  my  eyes  towards 
the  jewelled  cross  that  surmounted  the  high  altar,  I  clasped 
my  hands,  and  began  to  ^^•oncler  how  and  for  what  1  shoukl 
pray.  Suddenly  the  idea  struck  me  that  surely  it  was  selfish 
to  ask  Heaven  for  anything;  woidd  it  not  be  better  to  reflect 
on  all  that  had  already  been  given  to  me,  and  to  ofPer  up 
thanks?  Scarcely  had  this  thought  entered  my  mind  when 
a  sort  of  overwhelming  sense  of  unworthiness  came  over  me. 
Had  I  ever  been  unhappy?    T  wondered.    Ifso^why?    I  bej^an 


128  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  I 

i 

to  count  up  my  blessings  and  compare  them  with  my  misfor- 
tunes. Exhausted  pleasure-seekers  may  be  surprised  to  hear 
that  I  proved  the  joys  of  my  life  to  have  far  exceeded  my 
sorrows.  I  found  that  I  had  sight,  hearing,  youth,  sound 
limbs,  an  appreciation  of  the  beautiful  in  art  and  nature,  and 
an  intense  power  of  enjoyment.  For  all  these  things,  impos- 
sible of  purchase  by  mere  wealth,  should  I  not  give  thanks? 
For  every  golden  ray  of  sunshine,  for  every  flower  that  blooms, 
for  the  harmonies  of  the  wind  and  sea,  for  the  singing  of 
birds  and  the  shadows  of  trees,  should  I  not — should  we  not 
all  give  thanks?  For  is  there  any  human  sorrow  so  great 
that  the  blessing  of  mere  daylight  on  the  earth  does  not  far . 
exceed?  We  mortals  are  spoilt  and  petted  children — ^the  more 
gifts  we  have  the  more  we  crave;  and  Avhen  we  burn  or  woiiud 
ourselves  by  our  own  obstinacy  or  carelessness,  we  are  un- 
gratefully prone  to  blame  the  Supreme  Beiiefactor  for  our 
own  faults.  AVe  don  black  mourning  robes  as  a  sort  of  sombre 
protest  against  Him  for  having  removed  some  special  object  of 
our  choice  and  love,  whereas,  if  we  believed  in  Him  and  were 
grateful  to  Him,  we  should  wear  dazzling  white  in  sign  of 
rejoicing  that  our  treasure  is  safe  in  the  land  of  perfect  joy 
where  we  ourselves  desire  to  be.  Do  vre  suffer  from  illness, 
loss  of  money,  position,  or  friends,  we  rail  against  Fate — 
another  name  for  God — and  complain  like  babes  who  haA^e 
broken  their  toys;  yet  tlie  sun  shines  on,  the  seasons  come 
and  go,  the  lovely  panorama  of  Nature  unrolls  itself  all  for  our 
benefit,  while  we  murmur  and  fret  and  turn  our  eyes  away 
in  anger. 

Thinking  of  these  things  and  kneeling  before  the  altar, 
my  heart  became  filled  with  gratitude;  and  no  petition  sug- 
gested itself  to  me  save  one,  and  that  was,  "Let  me  believe 
and  love!"  I  thought  of  the  fair,  strong,  stately  figure  of 
Christ,  standing  out  in  the  world's  history,  like  a  statue  of 
pure  white  marble  against  a  dark  background;  I  mused  on 
the  endurance,  patience,  forgiveness,  and  perfect  innocence 
of  that  most  spotless  life  which  was  finished  on  the  cross, 
and  again  I  murmured,  "Tjet  me  believe  and  love!"  And  T 
became  so  absor})ed  in  meditation  that  the  time  fled  fast,  till 
a  sudden  sparkle  of  flame  flashing  across  the  altar-steps  caused 
me  to  look  up.  The  jewelled  cross  had  become  a  cross  of  fire. 
The  point  of  light  I  had  been  told  to  watch  for  had  not  only 
touched  the  extreme  edge,  but  had  crept  down  among  all  the 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  129 

ivreeioits  stones  and  lit  them  up  like  stars.  I  afterwards  learned 
that  this  effect  was  produced  by  means  of  a  thin  electric 
wire,  which,  communicating  with  a  timepiece  constructed  on 
the  same  s)^stem,  illuminated  the  cross  at  sunrise,  noon,  and 
sunset.  It  was  time  for  me  to  join  lleliobas.  I  rose  gently, 
and  left  the  chapel  with  a  quiet  and  reverent  step,  for  I  have 
always  thought  that  to  manifest  liurry  and  impatience  in  any 
])1ace  set  apart  for  the  worship  of  tlic  Creator  is  to  prove  your- 
self one  of  the  unworthiest  things  created.  Once  outside 
the  door  1  laid  aside  my  veil,  and  then,  with  a  perfectly 
composed  and  fearless  mind,  went  straight  to  the  Electrician's 
study.  I  shall  never  forget  the  intense  quiet  of  the  house 
tliat  morning.  The  very  fountain  in  the  hall  seemed  to  tin- 
kle in  a  sort  of  subdued  whisper.  I  found  lleliobas  seated 
at  his  table,  reading.  How  my  dream  came  vividly  back  to 
me,  as  I  saw  him  in  tliat  attitude!  I  felt  that  I  knew  what 
lie  was  reading.  He  looked  up  as  I  entered,  and  greeted  me 
with  a  kindly  yet  grave  smile.    I  broke  silence  abruptly. 

"Your  book  is  open,"  I  said,  "at  a  passage  commencing 
thus:  'The  universe  is  upheld  solely  by  the  Law  of  Love. 
A  majestic  invisible  Protectorate  governs  the  winds,  the 
tides.'    Is  it  not  so?" 

"It  is  so,"  returned  Heliobas.  "Are  you  acquainted  with 
the  book?" 

"Only  through  the  dream  I  had  of  you  at  Cannes,"  I 
answered.  "I  do  think  Signer  Cellini  had  some  power 
over  me." 

"Of  course  he  had  in  your  then  weak  state.  But  now 
that  you  are  as  strong  as  he  is,  he  could  not  influence  you 
at  all.  Let  us  be  brief  in  our  converse,  my  child.  I  have 
a  few  serious  things  to  say  to  you  before  you  leave  me,  on 
your  celestial  journey." 

I  trembled  slightly,  but  took  the  chair  he  pointed  out 
to  me — a  large  easy-chair  in  which  one  could  recline  and 
sleep. 

"Listen,"  continued  Heliobas;  "I  told  you,  when  you  first 
came  here,  that  whatever  I  might  do  to  restore  you  to  health, 
you  would  have  it  in  your  power  to  repay  me  amply.  You 
are  restored  to  health;   will  you  give  me  my  reward?" 

"I  would  and  will  do  anything  to  prove  my  gratitude  to 
you,"  I  said  earnestly.    "Only  tell  me  how." 

"You  are  aware,"  he  went  on,  "of  my  theories  respecting 


130  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

the  Electric  Spirit  or  Soul  in  Man.  It  is  progressive,  as 
1  have  told  you — it  begins  as  a  germ — it  goes  on  increasing 
in  power  and  bejaiity  forever,  till  it  is  great  and  pure  enough 
to  enter  the  last  of  all  v/orlds — God's  World.  But  there  are 
sometimes  hindrances  to  its  i:)rogressiou — obstacles  in  its 
path,  which  cause  it  to  recoil  and  retire  a  long  way  back — so 
far  back  occasionally  that  it  has  to  commence  its  journey 
over  again.  Now,  by  my  earnest  researches,  I  am  able  to 
study  and  watch  the  progress  of  my  own  inner  force  or  soul. 
So  far,  all  has  been  well — prayerfully  and  humbly  I  may  say 
I  believe  all  has  been  well.  But  I  foresee  an  approaching 
shadow — a  difficulty — a  danger — which,  if  it  cannot  be  re- 
pelled or  passed  in  some  way,  threatens  to  violently  push 
back  my  advancing  spiritual  nature,  so  that,  with  much 
grief  and  pain,  I  shall  have  to  recommence  tlie  work  that  I 
had  hoped  was  done.  I  cannot,  with  all  my  best  eifort,  dis- 
cover what  this  darkening  obstacle  is — but  you.  yes,  you" — 
for  I  had  started  up  in  surprise — '"you,  when  you  are  lifted 
up  high  enough  to  behold  these  things,  may,  being  perfectly 
unselfish  in  this  research,  attain  to  the  knowledge  of  it  and 
explain  it  to  me,  when  you  return.  In  trying  to  probe  the 
secret  for  myself,  it  is  of  course  pivrely  for  my  own  interest; 
and  nothing  clear,  nothing  satisfactory  can  be  spiritually 
obtained,  in  which  selfishness  has  ever  so  slight  a  share. 
You,  if  indeed  I  deserve  your  gratitude  for  the  aid  I  have 
given  you — you  will  be  able  to  search  out  the  matter  more 
certainly,  being  in  the  position  of  one  soul  working  for 
jinother.  Still,  I  cannot  compel  you  to  do  this  for  me — I  only 
ask,  will  you?" 

His  entreating  and  anxious  tone  touched  me  keenly;  but 
I  was  amazed  and  perplexed,  and  could  not  yet  realize  what 
strange  thing  was  going  to  happen  to  me.  But  whatever 
occurred  I  was  resolved  to  give  a  ready  consent  to  his  request, 
therefore  I  said  firmly: 

"I  will  do  my  best,  I  promise  you.  Remember  that  I  do 
not  know,  I  cannot  even  guess  where  I  am  going,  or  what 
strange  sensations  will  overcome  me;  but  if  I  am  permitted 
to  have  any  recollection  of  earth  at  all.  I  will  try  to  find  out 
what  you  ask." 

Heliobas  seemed  satisfied,  and  rising  from  his  chair,  un- 
locked a  heavily-bound  iron  safe.  Yrom  this  he  took  a  glass 
flask  of  a  strange,  ever-moving  glittering  fluid,  the  same  in 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  131 

appearance  as  that  which  Eaffaello  Cellini  had  forbidden 
me  to  drink.    He  then  paused  and  looked  searchingly  at  me. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said  in  an  authoritative  tone,  "tell  me  why 
you  wish  to  see  what  to  mortals  is  unseen?  What  motive 
iiave  you?    What  ulterior  plan?" 

I  hesitated.  Then  I  gathered  my  strength  together  and 
answered  decisively: 

"I  desire  to  know  why  this  world,  this  universe  exists; 
and  also  wish  to  prove,  if  possible,  the  truth  and  necessity 
of  religion.  And  I  think  I  would  give  my  life,  if  it  w-ere 
worth  anything,  to  be  certain  of  the  truth  of  Christianity." 

Heliobas  gazed  in  my  face  with  a  sort  of  half-pity,  half- 
censure. 

"You  have  a  daring  aim,"  he  said  slowly,  "and  you  are 
a  bold  seeker.  But  shame,  repentance  and  sorrow  await  you 
where  you  are  going,  as  well  as  rapture  and  amazement.  T 
would  give  my  life  if  it  were  worth  anything,'  That  utter- 
ance has  saved  you — otherwise  to  soar  into  an  unexplored 
wilderness  of  spheres,  weighted  by  your  own  doubts  and 
guided  solely  by  your  own  wild  desires,  would  be  a  fruitless 
journey." 

1  felt  abashed  as  I  met  his  steady,  scrutinizing  eyes. 

"Surely  it  is  well  to  wish  to  know  the  reason  of  things?" 
I  asked,  with  some  timidity. 

"The  desire  of  knowledge  is  a  great  virtue,  certainly,"  he 
replied;  "it  is  not  truly  felt  by  one  in  a  thousand.  ]\[ost 
persons  are  content  to  live  and  die,  absorbed  in  their  own 
petty  commonplace  affairs,  without  troubling  themselves  as 
to  the  reasons  of  their  existence.  Yet  it  is  almost  better, 
like  these,  to  wallow  in  blind  ignorance  than  wantonly  to 
doubt  the  Creator  because  He  is  unseen,  or  to  put  a  self- 
opinionated  construction  on  His  mysteries  because  He  chooses 
to  veil  them  from  our  eyes." 

"I  do  not  doubt!"  I  exclaimed  earnestly.  "I  only  want  to 
make  sure,  and  then  perhaps  I  may  persuade  others." 

"You  can  never  compel  faith,"  said  Heliobas  calmly.  "You 
are  going  to  see  wonderful  things  that  no  tongue  or  pen  can 
adequately  describe.  Well,  when  you  return  to  earth  again, 
do  you  suppose  you  can  make  people  believe  the  story  of 
your  experiences?  Never!  J3e  thankful  if  you  are  the  pos- 
sessor of  a  secret  joy  yourself,  and  do  not  attempt  to  impart 
it  to  others,  who  will  only  repel  and  mock  you." 


132  A   ROMANCE   CF   TWO   WORLDS. 

"Not  even  to  one  other?"  I  asked  hesitatingly. 

A  warm,  kindly  smile  seemed  to  illuminate  his  face  as  I 
put  this  question. 

"Yes,  to  one  other,  the  other  half  of  yourself — you  may 
tell  all  things,"  he  said.  "Ent  now,  no  more  converse.  If 
you  are  quite  ready,  drink  this." 

He  held  out  to  me  a  small  tumbler  filled  with  the  spark- 
Vmg  volatile  liquid  he  had  poured  from  the  flask.  For  one 
moment  my  courage  almost  forsook  me,  and  an  icy  shiver 
ran  through  my  vehis.  Then  I  bethought  myself  of  all  my 
boasted  bravery;  was  it  possible  that  I  should  fail  now  at 
this  critical  moment?  I  allowed  myself  no  more  time  for 
reflection,  but  took  the  glass  from  his  hand  and  drained  its 
contents  to  the  last  drop.  It  was  tasteless,  but  sparkling  and 
warm  on  the  tongue.  Scarcely  had  I  swallowed  it,  when  a 
curiously  light,  dizzy  sensation  overcame  me,  and  the  figure 
of  Ileliobas  standing  before  me  seemed  to  assume  gigantic 
proportions.  I  saw  his  hands  extend — his  eyes,  like  lamps 
of  electric  flame,  burned  through  and  through  me — and  hke 
a  distant  echo,  I  heard  the  deep  vibrating  tones  of  his  voice 
uttering  the  following  words: 

"Azul!  Azul!  Lift  up  this  light  and  daring  spirit  unto 
thyself;  be  its  pioneer  upon  the  path  it  must  pursue;  suffer 
it  to  float  untrammelled  through  the  wide  and  glorious  Con- 
finents  of  Air;  give  it  form  and  force  to  alight  on  any  of 
the  vast  and  beautiful  spheres  it  may  desire  to  behold;  and 
if  worthy,  permit  it  to  gaze,  if  only  for  a  brief  interval,  upon 
the  supreme  visiou  of  the  First  and  Last  of  worlds.  By  the 
force  thou  givest  unto  me,  I  free  this  soul;  do  thou,  Azul, 
quickly  receive  it!" 

A  dense  darkness  now  grew  thickly  around  me — I  lost 
all  power  over  my  limbs — I  felt  myself  being  lifted  up  forcibly 
and  rapidly,  up,  up,  into  some  illimitable,  terrible  space  of 
blackness  and  nothingness.  I  could  not  think,  move,  or 
cry  out— "I  could  only  feel  that  I  was  rising,  rising,  steadily, 
swiftly,  breathlessly  .  .  .  when  suddenly  a  long  quivering 
flash  of  radiance,  like  the  fragment  of  a  rainbow,  struck 
dazzlingly  across  my  sight.  Darkness?  What  had  I  to  do 
with  darkness?  I  knew  not  the  word — I  was  only  conscious 
of  light — light  exquisitely  pure  and  brilliant — light  through 
which  T  step]XHl  as  easily  as  a  bird  flies  in  air.  Perfectly 
awake  to  my  sensations,  J  felt  somehow  that  there  was  noth- 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  133 

ing  remarkable  in  them — I  seemed  to  be  at  home  in  some 
familiar  element.  Delicate  hands  held  mine — a  face  far 
lovelier  than  the  loveliest  face  of  woman  ever  dreamed  by 
poet  or  painter,  smiled  radiantly  at  me,  and  I  smiled  back 
again.  A  voice  whispered  in  strange  musical  murmurs,  such 
as  I  well  seemed  to  know  and  comprehend: 

"Gaze  behind  thee  ere  the  picture  fades." 

I  obeyed,  half  reluctantly,  and  saw  as  a  passing  shadow  in 
a  glass,  or  a  sort  of  blurred  miniature  painting,  the  room 
where  Heliobas  stood,  watching  some  strange  imperfect  shape, 
Avhich  I  seemed  faintly  to  recognize.  It  looked  like  a  small 
cast  in  clay,  very  badly  executed,  of  the  shape  I  at  present 
wore;  but  it  was  incomplete,  as  though  the  sculptor  had 
given  it  up  as  a  failure  and  gone  away,  leaving  it  unfinished. 

"Did  I  dwell  in  that  body?"  I  mused  to  myself,  as  I  felt 
the  perfection  of  my  then  state  of  being.  "How  came  I  shut 
in  such  a  prison?  How  poor  a  form — how  destitute  of  facul- 
ties— how  full  of  infirmities — how  limited  in  capabilities — how 
narrow  in  all  intelligence — how  ignorant — how  mean!" 

And  I  turned  for  relief  to  the  shining  companion  who  held 
me,  and  obeying  an  impulse  suddenly  imparted,  I  felt  myself 
floating  higher  and  higher  till  the  last  limits  of  the  atmos- 
phere surrounding  the  Earth  were  passed,  and  fields  of  pure 
and  cloudless  ether  extended  before  us.  Here  we  met  myriads 
of  creatures  like  ourselves,  all  hastening  in  various  directions 
— all  lovely  and  radiant  as  a  dream  of  the  fairies.  Some  of 
these  beings  were  quite  tiny  and  delicate — some  of  lofty 
stature  and  glorious  appearance:  their  forms  were  human, 
yet  so  refined,  improved,  and  perfected,  that  they  were  unlike, 
while  so  like  humanity. 

"Askest  thou  nothing?"  whispered  the  voice  beside  me. 

"Tell  me,"  I  answered,  "what -I  must  know." 

"These  spirits  that  we  behold,"  went  on  the  voice,  "arc 
the  guardians  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  all  the  planets.  Their 
labors  are  those  of  love  and  penitence.  Their  work  is  to 
draw  other  souls  to  God — to  attract  them  by  warnings,  by 
pleading,  by  praying.  They  have  all  worn  the  garb  of  mor- 
tality themselves,  and  they  teach  mortals  by  their  own  expe- 
rience. For  these  radiant  creatures  are  expiating  sins  of 
their  own  in  thus  striving  to  save  others — the  oftener  they 
succeed  the  nearer  they  approach  to  Heaven.  This  is  what 
is  vaguely  understood  on  your  earth  as  purgatory;  the  suffer- 


134  A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

ings  of  spirits  wlio  love  and  long  for  the  presence  of  their 
Creator,  and  who  yet  are  not  pure  enough  to  approach  Him, 
Only  by  serving  and  saving  otliers  can  they  obtain  at  last 
their  own  joy.  Every  act  of  ingratitude  and  forgetfulness 
and  wickedness  committed  by  a  mortal,  detains  one  or  an- 
other of  these  patient  workers  longer  away  from  Heaven — 
imagine  then  what  a  weary  while  many  of  them  have  to 
wait." 

I  made  no  answer,  and  we  floated  on.  Higher  and  higher 
— higher  and  higher — till  at  last  my  guide,  whom  I  knew  to 
be  that  being  whom  Heliobas  had  called  Azul,  bade  me  pause. 
We  were  floating  close  together  in  what  seemed  a  sea  of 
translucent  light.  From  this  point  I  could  learn  something 
of  the  mighty  workings  of  the  Universe.  I  gazed  upon 
countless  solar  systems,  that  like  wheels  within  wheels  revolved 
with  such  rapidity  that  they  seemed  all  one  wheel.  I  saw 
planets  whirl  around  and  around  with  breathless  swiftness, 
like  glittering  balls  flung  through  the  air — burning  comets 
flared  fiercely  past  like  torches  of  alarm  for  God's  wars  against 
Evil — a  marvelous  procession  of  indescribable  wonders  sweep- 
ing on  forever  in  circles,  grand,  huge,  and  immeasurable. 
And  as  I  watched  the  superb  pageant,  I  was  not  startled  or 
confused — I  looked  upon  it  as  anyone  might  look  on  any 
quiet  landscape  scene  in  what  we  know  of  Nature.  I  scarcely 
could  perceive  the  Earth  from  whence  I  had  come — so  tiny 
a  speck  was  it — nothing  but  a  mere  pin's  point  in  the  burning 
whirl  of  immensities.  I  felt,  however,  perfectly  conscious 
of  a  superior  force  in  myself  to  all  these  enormous  forces 
around  me — I  knew  without  needing  any  explanation  that  I 
was  formed  of  an  indestructible  essence,  and  that  were  all 
these  stars  and  systems  suddenly  to  end  in  one  fell  burst  of 
brilliant  horror,  I  should  still  exist — I  should  know  and  re- 
meml:)er  and  feel- — should  be  able  to  watch  the  birth  of  a  new 
Universe,  and  take  my  part  in  its  growth  and  design. 

''Eemind  me  why  these  wonders  exist,*'  I  said,  turning 
to  my  guide,  and  speaking  in  those  dulcet  sounds  which  were 
like  music  and  yet  like  speech;  "and  wlw  amid  them  all  the 
Earth  is  believed  by  its  inhabitants  to  have  merited  destruc- 
tion, and  yet  to  have  been  found  worthy  of  redemption?" 

"Thy  last  question  shall  be  answered  first,"  replied  Azul. 
"Seest  thou  yonder  planet  circled  with  a  ring?    It  is  known 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS.  135 

to  the  dwellers  on  Earth,  of  whom  when  in  clay  thou  art 
one,  as  Saturn.    Descend  with  me!" 

And  in  a  breath  of  time  we  floated  downwards  and  alighted 
on  a  broad  and  beautiful  plain,  where  flowers  of  strange  shape 
and  color  grew  in  profusion.  Here  we  were  met  by  creatures 
of  lofty  stature  and  dazzling  beauty,  human  in  shape,  yet 
angelic  in  countenance.  They  knelt  to  us  with  reverence  and 
joy,  and  then  passed  on  to  their  toil  or  pleasure,  whichever 
invited  them,  and  I  looked  to  Azul  for  explanation. 

"To  tiiese  children  of  the  Creator,"  said  that  radiant  guide, 
"is  granted  the  ability  to  see  and  to  converse  with  the  spirits 
of  the  air.  They  know  them  and  love  them,  and  implore 
their  protection.  In  this  planet  sickness  and  old  age  are  un- 
known, and  death  comes  as  a  quiet  sleep.  The  period  of 
existence  is  about  two  hundred  years,  according  to  the  Earth's 
standard  of  time;  and  the  process  of  decay  is  no  more  un- 
lovely than  the  gentle  withering  of  roses.  The  influence  of 
the  electric  belt  around  their  world  is  a  bar  to  pestilence 
and  disease,  and  scatters  health  with  light.  All  sciences,  arts, 
and  inventions  known  on  Earth  are  known  here,  only  to 
greater  perfection.  The  three  important  differences  between 
the  inhabitants  of  this  planet  and  those  who  dwell  on  Earth 
are  these:  first  they  have  no  rulers  in  authority,  as  each  one 
perfectly  governs  himself;  second,  they  do  not  marry,  as 
the  law  of  attraction  which  draws  together  any  two  of  oppo- 
site sexes,  holds  them  fast  in  inviolable  fidelity;  thirdly,  there 
is  no  creature  in  all  the  immensity  of  this  magnificent  sphere 
who  has  ever  doubted,  or  who  will  ever  doubt,  the  existence 
of  the  Creator." 

A  thrill  of  fiery  shame  seemed  to  dart  through  my  spiritual 
being  as  I  heard  this,  and  I  made  no  answer.  Some  fairy- 
like little  creatures,  the  children  of  the  Saturnites,  as  I  sup- 
posed, here  came  running  towards  us  and  knelt  down,  rev- 
erently clasping  their  hands  in  prayer.  They  then  gathered 
flowers  and  flung  them  on  that  portion  of  ground  where  we 
stood,  and  gazed  at  us  fearlessly  and  lovingly,  as  they  might 
have  gazed  at  some  rare  bird  or  butterfly. 

Azul  signed  to  me,  and  we  rose  while  yet  in  their  sight, 
and  soaring  through  the  radiance  of  the  ring,  which  was 
like  a  sun  woven  into  a  circle,  we  soon  left  Saturn  far  behind 
us,  and  alighted  on  A'enus.  Here  seas,  mountains,  forests, 
lakes^  and  meadows  were  one  vast  garden,  in  which  the  bloom 


136  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

and  verdure  of  all  worlds  seemed  to  find  a  home.  Here  were 
realized  the  dreams  of  sculptors  and  painters,  in  the  graceful 
forms  and  exquisite  faces  of  the  women,  and  the  splendid 
strength  and  godlike  beauty  of  the  men.  A  brief  glance  was 
sufficient  to  show  me  that  the  moving  spring  of  all  the  civ- 
ilization of  this  radiant  planet  was  the  love  of  Nature  and 
Art  united.  There  Avcre  no  wars — for  there  were  no  different 
nations.  All  the  inhabitants  were  like  one  vast  family;  they 
Avorked  for  one  another,  and  vied  with  each  other  in  paying 
homage  to  those  of  the  loftiest  genius  among  them.  They 
had  one  supreme  Monarch  to  whom  they  all  rendered  glad 
obedience;  and  he  was  a  Poet,  ready  to  sacrifice  his  throne 
with  joy  as  soon  as  his  people  should  discover  a  greater  than 
he.  For  they  all  loved  not  the  artist  but  the  Art;  and  self- 
ishness was  a  vice  unknown.  Here,  none  loved  or  were  wedded 
save  those  who  had  spiritual  sympathies,  and  here,  too,  no 
creature  existed  who  did  not  believe  in  and  worship  the  Cre- 
ator. The  same  state  of  things  existed  in  Jupiter,  the  planet 
we  next  visited,  where  everything  was  performed  by  elec- 
tricity. Here  persons  living  hundreds  of  miles  apart  could 
yet  converse  together  with  perfect  ease  through  an  electric 
medium;  ships  ploughed  the  sea  by  electricity;  printing,  an 
art  of  which  the  dwellers  of  Earth  are  so  proud,  was  accom- 
plished by  electricity — in  fact,  everything  in  the  way  of 
science,  art,  and  invention  kuown  to  us  was  also  known  in 
Jupiter,  only  to  greater  perfection,  because  tempered  and 
strengthened  by  an  electric  force  which  never  failed.  From 
Jupiter,  Azul  guided  me  to  many  other  fair  and  splendid 
worlds — yet  none  of  them  were  Paradise;  all  had  some  slight 
drawback — some  physical  or  spiritual  ailment,  as  it  were, 
which  had  to  be  combated  with  and  conquered.  All  the 
inhabitants  of  each  star  longed  for  something  they  had  not — 
something  better,  greater,  and  higher — and  therefore  all  had 
discontent.  They  could  not  realize  their  best  desires  in  the 
state  of  existence  they  then  were,  therefore  they  all  suffered 
disappointment.  They  were  all  compelled  to  work  in  some 
way  or  another;  they  were  all  doomed  to  die.  Yet,  unlike 
the  dwellers  on  Earth,  they  did  not,  because  their  lives  were 
more  or  less  constrained  and  painful,  complain  of  or  deny 
the  goodness  of  God — on  the  contrary,  they  believed  in  a 
future  state  which  should  be  as  perfect  as  their  present  one  was 
imperfect;  and  the  chief  aim  and  object  of  all  their  labors  was 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  137 

to  become  worthy  of  attaining  that  final  grand  result — Eternal 
Happiness  and  Peace. 

'"Readest  thou  the  lesson  in  these  glowing  spheres,  teeming 
with  life  and  learning?"  murmured  Azul  to  me,  as  we  soared 
swiftly  on  together.  "Know  that  not  one  smallest  world  in 
all  the  myriad  systems  circling  before  thee,  holds  a  single 
human  creature  who  doubts  his  Maker.  Not  one!  except 
thine  own  doomed  star!  Behold  it  yonder — sparkling  feebly, 
like  a  faint  flame  amid  sunshine — how  poor  a  speck  it  is — 
how  like  a  scarcely  visible  point  in  all  the  brilliancy  of  the 
ever-revolving  wheel  of  Life!  Yet  there  dwell  the  dwarfs 
of  clay — the  men  and  women  who  pretend  to  love  while  they 
secretly  hate  and  despise  one  another.  There,  wealth  is  a- 
god,  and  the  greed  of  gain  a  virtue.  There,  genius  starves, 
and  heroism  dies  unrewarded.  There,  faith  is  martyred,  and 
unbelief  elected  sovereign  monarch  of  the  people.  There, 
the  sublime,  unreachable  mysteries  of  the  Universe  are  hag- 
gled over  by  poor  finite  minds  who  cannot  call  their  lives 
their  own.  There,  nation  wars  against  nation,  creed  against 
creed,  soul  against  soul.  Alas,  fated  planet!  how  soon  shalt 
thou  be  extinct,  and  thy  place  shall  know  thee  no  more!" 

I  gazed  earnestly  at  my  radiant  guide.  "If  that  is  true," 
I  said,  "why  then  should  we  have  a  legend  that  God,  in  the 
person  of  one  called  Christ,  came  to  die  for  so  miserable  and 
mean  a  race  of  beings?" 

Azul  ans\'sered  not,  but  turned  her  luminous  eyes  upon  me 
with  a  sort  of  wide  dazzling  wonder.  Some  strange  impelling 
force  bore  me  onward,  and  before  I  could  realize  it  I  was  alone. 
Alone,  in  a  vast  area  of  light  through  which  I  floated,  serene 
and  conscious  of  power.  A  sound  falling  from  a  great  height 
reached  me;  it  was  first  like  a  grand  organ-chord,  and  then 
like  a  voice,  trumpet-clear  and  far-echoing. 

"Spirit  that  searchest  for  the  Unseen,"  it  said,  "because 
I  will  not  that  no  atom  of  true  worth  should  perish,  unto  thee 
shall  be  given  a  vision — unto  thee  shall  be  taught  a  lesson 
thou  dreamest  not  of.  Thou  shalt  create;  thou  shalt  design 
and  plan;  thou  shalt  be  worshiped,  and  thou  shalt  destroy! 
Rest  therefore  in  the  light  and  behold  the  things  that  are  in 
the  light,  for  the  time  cometh  when  all  that  seemeth  clear 
and  visible  now  shall  be  but  darkness.  And  they  that  love 
nte  not  shall  have  no  place  of  abode  in  that  hour!" 

The  voice  ceased.     Awed,  yet  consoled,  I  listened  for  it 


138  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

again.  There  was  no  more  sound,  x^round  me  was  illimit- 
able light — illimitable  silence.  But  a  strange  scene  unfolded 
itself  swiftly  before  me — a  sort  of  shifting  dream  that  was  a 
reality,  yet  so  wonderfully  unreal — a  vision  that  impressed 
itself  on  every  portion  of  my  intelligence;  a  kind  of  spirit- 
drama  in  which  I  was  forced  to  enact  the  chief  part,  and 
where  a  mystery  that  I  had  deemed  impenetrable  was  made 
perfectly  clear  and  simple  of  comprehension. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 

A    MINIATURE    CREATION. 

In  my  heaven-uplifted  dream,  I  thought  I  saw  a  circular 
spacious  garden  in  which  all  the  lovely  landscapes  of  a  supe- 
rior world  appeared  to  form  themselves  by  swift  degrees. 
The  longer  I  looked  at  it,  the  more  beautiful  it  became,  and 
a  little  star  shone  above  it  like  a  sun.  Trees  and  flowei-s 
sprang  up  under  m}'  gaze,  and  all  stretched  themselves  toward 
me,  as  though  for  protection.  Birds  flew  about  and  sang; 
some  of  them  tried  to  get  as  near  as  possible  to  the  little 
sun  they  saw;  and  other  living  creatures  began  to  move  about 
in  the  shadows  of  the  groves,  and  on  the  fresh  green  grass. 
All  the  wonderful  workings  of  Nature,  as  known  to  us  in  the 
world,  took  place  over  again  in  this  garden,  which  seemed 
somehow  to  belong  to  me;  and  I  watched  everything  with 
a  certain  satisfaction  and  delight.  Then  the  idea  came  to  me 
that  the  place  would  be  fairer  if  there  were  either  men  or 
angels  to  inhabit  it;  and  quick  as  light  a  whisper  came 
to  me: 

"Create!" 

And  I  thought  in  my  dream  that  by  the  mere  desire  of 
my  being,  expressed  in  waves  of  electric  warmth  that  floated 
downwards  from  me  to  the  earth  I  possessed,  m}''  garden 
was  suddenly  filled  with  men,  women  and  children,  each  of 
whom  had  a  small  portion  of  myself  in  them,  inasmuch  as  it 
was  I  who  made  them  move  and  talk  and  occupy  themselves 
in  all  manner  of  amusements.  Many  of  them  knelt  down  to 
me  and  prayed,  and  offered  thanksgivings  for  having  been 


A    ROMANCE   OF    TWO    WORLDS.  139 

created;    but  some  of  them  went  instead  to  the  little  star, 
which  they  called  a  sun,  and  thanked  that,  and  prayed  to 
that  instead.     Then  others  went  and  cut  down  the   trees 
in  the  garden,  and  dug  up  stones,  and  built  themselves  little 
cities,  where  they  all  dwelt  together  like  flocks  of  sheep,  and 
ate  and  drank  and  made  merry  with  the  things  I  had  given 
them.     Then  I  thought  that  I  increased  their  intelligence 
and   quickness  of   perception,   and  by-and-by   they  grew   so 
proud  that  they  forgot  everything  but  themselves.     They 
ceased  to  remember  how  they  were  created,  and  they  cared 
no  more  to  offer  praises  to  their  little  sun  that  through  me 
gave  them  light  and  heat.     But  because  something  of  my 
essence  still  was  in  them,  they  always  instinctively  sought 
to  worship  a  superior  creature  to  themselves;    and  puzzling 
tlicmselves  in  their  folly,  they  made  hideous  images  of  wood 
and  cki}',  unlike  anything  in  heaven  or  earth,  and  offered 
sacrifices  and  prayer  to  these  lifeless  puppets  instead  of  to  me. 
Then  I  turned  away  my  eyes  in  sorrow  and  pity,  but  never 
in  anger;    for  I  could  not  be  wrathful  with  these  children 
of  my  own  creation.    And  when  I  thus  turned  away  my  eyes, 
all  manner  of  evil  came  upon  the  once  fair  scene — pestilence 
and  storm,  disease  and  vice.     A  dark  shadow  stole  between 
my  little  world  and  me — the   shadow   of  the  people's  own 
wickedness.    And  as  every  delicate  fiber  of  my  spiritual  being 
repelled  evil  by  the  necessity  of  the  pure  light  in  which  I 
dwelt  serene,  I  waited  patiently  for  the  mists  to  clear,  so 
that  I  might  again  behold  the  beauty  of  my  garden.     Sud- 
denly a  soft  clamor  smote  upon  my  sense  of  hearing,  and  a 
slender  stream  of  light,  like  a  connecting  ray,  seemed  to  be 
flung  upwards  through  the  darkness  that  hid  me  from  the 
people  I  had  created  and  loved.     I  knew  the  sound — it  was 
the  mingled  music  of  the  prayers  of  children.     An  infinite 
pit}'  and  pleasure  touched  me,  my  being  thrilled  with  love 
and  tenderness;   and  yielding  to  these  little  ones  who  asked 
me  for  protection,  I  turned  my  eyes  again  toward  the  garden 
I  had  designed  for  fairness  and  pleasure.     But  alas!    how 
chaiiged  it  had  become!     !N"o  longer  fresh  and  sweet,  the 
people  had  turned  it  into  a  wilderness;    they  had  divided  it 
into  small  portions,  and  in  so  doing  had  divided  themselves 
into  separate  companies  called  nations,  all  of  whom  fought 
with  each  other  fiercely  for  their  different  little  parterres  or 
flower-beds.     Some  haggled  and  talked  incessantly  over  the 


140  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

mere  possession,  of  a  stone  which  they  called  a  rock;  others 
busied  themselves  in  digging  a  little  yellow  metal  out  of 
the  earth,  which,  when  once  obtained,  seemed  to  make  the 
owners  of  it  mad,  for  they  straightway  forgot  everything  else.. 
As  I  looked,  the  darkness  between  me  and  my  creation  grew 
denser,  and  was  only  pierced  at  last  by  those  long  wide  shafts 
of  radiance  caused  by  the  innocent  prayers  of  those  who  still 
remembered  me.  And  I  was  full  of  regret,  for  I  saw  my 
people  wandering  hither  and  thither,  restless  and  dissatisfied, 
perplexed  by  their  own  errors,  and  caring  nothing  for  the 
love  I  bore  them.  Then  some  of  them  advanced  and  began 
to  question  why  they  had  been  created,  forgetting  completely 
how  their  lives  had  been  originally  designed  by  me  for  hap- 
piness, love  and  wisdom.  Then  they  accused  me  of  the  exist- 
ence of  evil,  refusing  to  see  that  where  there  is  light  there 
is  also  darkness,  and  that  darkness  is  the  rival  force  of  the 
Universe,  whence  cometh  silently  the  Unnamable  Oblivion  of 
Souls.  They  could  not  see,  my  self-willed  children,  that 
they  had  of  their  own  desire  sought  the  darkness  and  found 
it;  and  now,  because  it  gloomed  above  them  like  a  pall,  they 
refused  to  believe  in  the  light  where  still  I  was  loving  and 
striving  to  attract  them  still.  Yet  it  was  not  all  darkness, 
and  I  knew  that  even  what  there  was  might  be  repelled  and 
cleared  away  if  only  my  people  would  turn  towards  me  once 
more.  So  I  sent  down  upon  them  all  possible  blessings — 
some  they  rejected  angrily,  some  they  snatched  at  and  threw 
away  again,  as  though  they  were  poor  and  trivial — none  of 
them  were  they  thankful  for,  and  none  did  they  desire  to 
keep.  And  the  darkness  above  them  deepened,  while  my 
anxious  pity  and  love  for  them  increased.  For  how  could  I 
turn  altogether  away  from  them,  as  long  as  but  a  few  remem- 
bered me?  There  were  some  of  these  weak  children  of  mine 
who  loved  and  honored  me  so  well  that  they  absorbed  some 
of  my  light  into  themselves,  and  became  heroes,  poets,  musi- 
cians, teachers  of  high  and  noble  thought,  and  unselfish, 
devoted  martyrs  for  the  sake  of  the  reverence  they  bore  me. 
There  were  women  pure  and  sweet,  who  wore  their  existence 
as  innocently  as  lilies,  and  Avho  turned  to  me  to  seek  pro- 
tection, not  for  themselves,  but  for  those  they  loved.  There 
were  little  children,  wliosc  asking  voices  were  like  waves  of 
delicious  music  to  my  being,  and  for  whom  I  had  a  surpassing 
tenderness.    And  yet  all  these  were  a  mere  handful  compared 


A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  141 

to  the  numbers  who  denied  my  existence,  and  who  had  wil- 
fully crushed  out  and  repelled  every  spark  of  my  essence  in 
themselves.  And  as  I  contemplated  this,  the  voice  I  had  heard 
at  the  commencement  of  my  dream  rushed  towards  me  like  a 
mighty  wind  broken  through  by  thunder: 

"Destroy!" 

A  great  pity  and  love  possessed  me.  In  deep  awe,  yet 
solemn  earnestness,  I  pleaded  with  that  vast  commanding 
voice. 

"Bid  me  not  destroy!"  I  implored.  "Command  me  not 
to  disperse  into  nothingness  these  children  of  my  fancy,  some 
of  whom  yet  love  and  trust  to  me  for  safety.  Let  me  strive 
once  more  to  bring  them  out  of  their  darkness  into  the  light 
— to  briug  them  to  the  happiness  I  designed  them  to  enjoy. 
They  have  not  all  forgotten  me — let  me  give  them  more  time 
for  thought  and  recollection!" 

Again  the  great  voice  shook  the  air: 

"They  love  darkness  rather  than  light;  they  love  the  per- 
ishable earth  of  which  they  are  in  part  composed,  better 
than  the  germ  of  immortality  with  which  they  were  in  the 
beginning  endowed.  This  garden  of  thine  is  but  a  caprice 
of  thy  intelligence;  the  creatures  that  inhabit  it  are  soulless 
and  unworthy,  and  are  an  offense  to  that  indestructible  radi- 
ance of  which  thou  art  one  ray.  Therefore  I  say  unto  thee 
again — destroy !" 

My  yearning  love  grew  stronger,  and  I  pleaded  with  re- 
newed force. 

"Oh,  thou  Unseen  Glory!"  I  cried;  "thou  who  hast  filled 
me  with  this  emotion  of  love  and  pity  which  permeates  and 
supports  my  existence,  how  canst  thou  bid  me  take  this  sud- 
den revenge  upon  my  frail  creation!  ISTo  caprice  was  it  that 
caused  me  to  design  it;  nothing  but  a  thought  of  love  and  a 
desire  of  beauty.  Even  yet  I  will  fulfil  my  plan — even  yet 
shall  these  erring  children  of  mine  return  to  me  in  time, 
with  patience.  While  one  of  them  still  lifts  a  hand  in  prayer 
to  me,  or  gratitude,  I  cannot  destroy!  Bid  me  rather  sink 
into  the  darkness  of  the  uttermost  deep  of  shadow;  only  let 
me  save  these  feeble  little  ones  from  destruction!" 

The  voice  replied  not.  A  flashing  opal  brilliancy  sliot 
across  the  light  in  Fhich  I  rested;,  and  I  beheld  an  Angel, 


142  A   ROMANCE    OP   TWO    WORLDS. 

grand,  loft3%  majestic,  with  a  countenance  in  which  shone 
the  luster  of  a  myriad  summer  mornings. 

"Spirit  that  art  escaped  from  the  Sorrowful  Star,"  it  said 
in  accents  clear  and  sonorous,  "wouldst  thou  indeed  be  con- 
tent to  suffer  the  loss  of  heavenly  joy  and  peace,  in  order 
to  rescue  thy  perishing  creation?" 

"I  would!"  I  answered;  "if  I  understood  death,  I  would 
die  to  save  one  of  those  frail  creatures,  who  seek  to  know  me 
and  yet  cannot  find  me  through  the  darkness  they  have 
brought  upon  themselves." 

"To  die,"  said  the  Angel,  "to  understand  death,  thou 
wouldst  need  to  become  one  of  them,  to  take  upon  thyself 
their  form — to  imprison  all  that  brilliancy  of  which  thou 
art  now  composed,  into  a  mean  and  common  case  of  clay; 
and  even  if  thou  couldst  accomplish  this,  would  thy  children 
know  thee  or  receive  thee?" 

"Nay,  but  if  I  could  suffer  shame  by  them,"  I  cried  impetu- 
ously, "I  could  not  suffer  sin.  My  being  would  be  incapable 
of  error,  and  I  would  show  these  creatures  of  mine  the  bliss 
of  purity,  the  joy  of  wisdom,  the  ecstasy  of  light,  the  cer- 
tainty of  immortality,  if  they  followed  me.  And  then  I 
would  die  to  show  them  death  is  easy,  and  that  in  dying  they 
would  come  to  me  and  find  their  happiness  forever!" 

The  stature  of  the  Angel  grew  more  loft)^  and  magnificent, 
and  its  star-like  eyes  flashed  fire. 

"Then,  oh  thou  wanderer  from  the  Earth!"  it  said,  "under- 
standest  thou  not  the  Christ?" 

A  deep  awe  trembled  through  me.  Meanwhile  the  garden 
I  had  thought  a  world  appeared  to  roll  up  like  a  cloudy  scroll, 
and  vanished,  and  I  knew  that  it  had  been  a  vision,  and  no 
more. 

"Oh,  doubting  and  foolish  Spirit!"  went  on  the  Angel — 
"thou  who  art  but  one  point  of  living  light  in  the  Supreme 
Eadiance,  even  thou  wouldst  consent  to  immure  thyself  in 
the  darkness  of  mortality  for  sake  of  thy  fancied  creation! 
Even  thou  wouldst  submit  to  suffer  and  to  die,  in  order  to 
show  the  frail  children  of  thy  dream  a  purely  sinless  and 
spiritual  example!  Even  thou  hast  had  the  courage  to  plead 
with  the  One  All-Sufficing  Voice  against  the  destruction  of 
what  to  thee  was  but  a  mirage  floating  in  this  ether!  Even 
thou  hast  had  love,  forgiveness,  pity!  Even  thou  wouldst 
be  willing  to  dwell  among  the  oreaturos  of  tbv  fiinov  as  one 


A   ROMANCE   OP    TWO    WORLDS.  143 

of  them,  knowing  in  tliy  inner  self  that  by  so  doing,  thy 
spiritual  presence  would  have  marked  thy  little  world  forever 
as  sanctified  and  impossible  to  destroy.  Even  thou  wouldst 
sacrifice  a  glory  to  answer  a  child's  prayer — even  thou  wouldst 
have  patience!  And  yet  thou  hast  dared  to  deny  to  God 
those  attributes  which  thou  thyself  dost  possess — He  is  so 
great  and  vast — thou  so  small  and  slight!  For  the  love  thou 
feelest  throbbing  through  thy  being,  Pie  is  the  very  com- 
mencement and  perfection  of  all  love;  if  thou  hast  pity.  He 
has  ten  thousand  times  more  pity;  if  thou  canst  forgive,  re- 
member that  from  Him  flows  all  thy  power  of  forgiveness! 
There  is  nothing  thou  canst  do,  even  at  the  highest  height 
of  spiritual  perfection,  that  He  cannot  surpass  by  a  thousand 
million  fold!  Neither  shalt  thou  refuse  to  believe  that  He 
can  also  suffer.  Know  that  nothing  is  more  godlike  than 
unselfish  sorrow — and  the  grief  of  the  Creator  over  one  erring 
human  soul  is  as  vast  as  He  Himself  is  vast.  Why  wouldst 
thou  make  of  Him  a  being  destitute  of  the  best  emotions 
that  He  Himself  bestows  upon  thee?  Thou  wouldst  have 
entered  into  thy  dream-world  and  lived  in  it  and  died  in  it, 
if  by  so  doing  thou  couldst  have  drawn  one  of  thy  creatures 
back  to  the  love  of  thee;  and  wilt  thou  not  receive  the 
Christ?" 

I  bowed  my  head,  and  a  flood  of  joy  rushed  through  me. 

"I  believe — I  believe  and  I  love!"  I  murmured.  "Desert 
me  not,  0  radiant  Angel!  I  feel  and  know  that  all  these 
Avonders  must  soon  pass  away  from  my  sight;  but  wilt  thou 
also  go?" 

The  Angel  smiled  and  touched  me. 

"I  am  thy  guardian,"  it  said.  "I  have  been  with  thee 
always.  I  can  never  leave  thee  so  long  as  thy  soul  seeks 
spiritual  things.  Asleep  or  awake  on  the  Earth,  wherever 
thou  art,  I  also  am.  There  have  been  times  when  I  have 
warned  thee  and  thou  wouldst  not  listen,  when  I  have  tried 
to  draw  thee  onward  and  thou  wouldst  not  come;  but  now 
I  fear  no  more  thy  disobedience,  for  thy  restlessness  is  past. 
Come  with  me;  it  is  permitted  thee  to  see  far  off  the  vision  of 
the  Last  Circle." 

The  glorious  figure  raised  me  gently  by  the  hand,  and  we 
floated  on  and  on,  higher  and  higher,  past  little  circles  which 
my  guide  told  me  were  all  solar  systems,  though  they  looked 
nothing  but  slender  garlands  of  fire,  so  rapidly  did  they  re- 


144  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

volve  and  so  swiftly  did  we  pass  them.  Higher  and  higher 
we  went,  till  even  to  my  untiring  spirit  the  way  seemed  long. 
Beautiful  creatures  in  human  shape,  but  as  delicate  as  gossa- 
mer, passed  us  every  now  and  then,  some  in  bands  of  twos  and, 
threes,  some  alone;  and  the  higher  we  soared  the  more 
dazzliugly  lovely  these  inhabitants  of  the  air  seemed  to  be. 

"They  are  all  born  of  the  Great  Circle,"  my  guardian  Angel 
explained  to  me:  "and  to  them  is  given  the  power  of  com- 
municating high  thought  or  inspiration.  Among  them  are 
the  Spirits  of  Music,  of  Poesy,  of  Prophecy,  and  of  all  Art 
ever  known  in  all  worlds.  The  success  of  their  teaching 
depends  on  how  much  purity  and  unselfishness  there  is  in 
the  soul  to  which  they  whisper  their  divine  messages — mes- 
sages as  brief  as  telegrams  which  must  be  listened  to  with 
entire  attention  and  acted  upon  at  once,  or  the  lesson  is  lost 
and  may  never  come  again." 

Just  then  I  saw  a  Shape  coming  towards  me  as  of  a  lovely 
fair-haired  child,  who  seemed  to  be  playing  softly  on  a  strange 
glittering  instrument  like  a  broken  cloud  strung  through 
with  sunbeams.  Heedless  of  consequences,  I  caught  at  its 
misty  robe  in  a  wild  effort  to  detain  it.  It  obeyed  my  touch, 
turned  its  deeply  luminous  eyes  first  upon  me,  and  then  upon 
the  Angel  who  accompanied  my  flight. 

"What  seekest  thou?"  it  asked  in  a  voice  like  the  murmur- 
ing of  the  wind  among  flowers. 

"Music!"  I  answered.  "Sing  me  thy  melodies — fill  me 
with  harmonies  divine  and  unreachable — and  I  will  strive 
to  be  worthy  of  thy  teachings!" 

The  young  Shape  smiled  and  drew  closer  towards  me. 

"Thy  wish  is  granted,  Sister  Spirit!"  it  replied.  "The  pity 
I  shall  feel  for  thy  fate  when  thou  art  again  pent  in  clay, 
shall  be  taught  thee  in  minor  music — thou  shalt  possess  the 
secret  of  unwritten  sound,  and  I  will  sing  to  thee  and  bring 
thee  comfort.  On  Earth,  call  but  my  name — Aeon!  and  thou 
shalt  behold  me.  For  thy  longing  voice  is  known  to  the 
Children  of  Music,  and  hath  oft  shaken  the  vibrating  light 
wherein  they  dwell.  Fear  not!  As  long  as  thou  dost  love 
me,  I  am  thine."  And  parting  slowly,  still  smiling,  the  lovely 
vision,  with  its  small  radiant  hands  ever  wandering  among 
the  starry  strings  of  its  cloudlike  lyre,  floated  onward. 

Suddenly  a  clear  voice  said  "Welcome!"  and  looking  up 
I  saw  my  first  friend,  Azul.    I  smiled  in  glad  recognition — I 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  145 

would  have  spoken — but  lo!  a  wide  immensity  of  blazing 
glory  broke  like  many-colored  lightning  around  me — so 
dazzling,  so  overpowering,  that  I  instinctively  drew  back  and 
paused — I  felt  I  could  go  no  further. 

"Here,"  said  my  guardian  gently — "here  ends  thy  journey. 
Would  that  it  were  possible,  poor  Spirit,  for  thee  to  pass 
this  boundary!  But  that  may  not  be — as  yet.  In  the  mean- 
while tliou  mayest  gaze  for  a  brief  space  upon  the  majestic 
sphere  which  mortals  dream  of  as  Heaven.  Behold  and  see 
how  fair  is  the  incorruptible  perfection  of  God's  World!" 

I  looked  and  trembled — I  should  have  sunk  yet  further 
backward,  had  not  Azul  and  my  Angel-guide  held  me  with 
their  light  yet  forcible  clasp.  My  heart  fails  me  now  as  I 
try  to  write  of  that  tremendous,  that  sublime  scene — the 
Center  of  the  Universe — the  Cause  of  all  Creation.  How 
unlike  Heaven  such  as  we  in  our  ignorance  have  tried  to 
depict!  though  it  is  far  better  we  should  have  a  mistaken 
idea  than  none  at  all.  What  I  beheld  was  a  circle,  so  huge 
that  no  mortal  measurements  could  compass  it — a  wide  Ring 
composed  of  seven  colors,  rainbow-like,  but  flashing  with 
perpetual  motion  and  brilliancy,  as  though  a  thousand  million 
suns  were  forever  being  woven  into  it  to  feed  its  transcendent 
luster.  From  every  part  of  this  Ring  darted  long  broad 
shafts  of  light,  some  of  which  stretched  out  so  far  that  I 
could  not  see  where  they  ended;  sometimes  a  bubbling 
shower  of  lightning  sparks  would  be  flung  out  on  the  pure 
ether,  and  this  would  instantly  form  into  circles,  small  or 
great,  and  whirl  round  and  round  the  enormous  girdle  of 
flame  from  which  they  had  been  cast,  with  the  most  incon- 
ceivable rapidity.  But  wonderful  as  the  Ring  was,  it  encom- 
l^assed  a  Sphere  yet  more  marvelous  and  dazzling;  a  great 
Globe  of  opal-tinted  light,  revolving  as  it  were  upon  its  own 
axis,  and  ever  surrounded  by  that  scintillating,  jewel-like 
wreath  of  electricity,  whose  only  motion  was  to  shine  and 
burn  within  itself  forever.  I  could  not  bear  to  look  upon  the 
brightness  of  that  magnificent  central  World — so  large  that 
multiplying  the  size  of  the  sun  by  a  hundred  thousand  mil- 
lions, no  adequate  idea  could  be  formed  of  its  vast  propor- 
tions. And  ever  it  revolved — and  ever  the  Rainbow  Ring 
around  it  glittered  and  cast  forth  those  other  rings  which 
I  knew  now  were  living  solar  systems  cast  forth  from  that 
electric  band  as  a  volcano  casts  forth  fire  and  lava.     My 

10 


146  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

An-^'el-giiide  motioned  me  to  look  towards  that  side  of  the 
Eing  which  was  nearest  to  the  position  of  the  Earth.  I 
looked,  and  perceived  that  there  the  shafts  of  descending 
light  formed  themselves  as  they  fell  into  the  shape  of  a  Cross. 
At  this,  snch  sorrow,  love,  and  shame  overcame  me,  that  T 
knew  not  where  to  turn.    I  murmured: 

"Send  me  back  again,  dear  Angel — send  me  back  to  that 
Star  of  Sorrow  and  Error!  Let  me  hasten  to  make  amends 
there  for  all  my  folly — let  me  try  to  teach  others  what  now 
I  know.  I  am  unworthy  to  be  here  beside  thee — I  am  unfit 
to  look  on  yonder  splendid  World — let  me  return  to  do 
l)enance  for  my  sins  and  shortcomings;  for  what  am  I  that 
(}od  should  bless  me?  and  though  I  should  consume  myself 
in  labor  and  suffering,  how  can  I  ever  hope  to  deserve  the 
smallest  place  in  that  heavenly  glory  I  now  partly  behold?" 
And  could  spirits  shed  tears,  I  should  have  wept  with  remorse 
and  grief. 

Azul  spoke,  softly  and  tenderly: 

"Now  thou  dost  believe — henceforth  thou  must  love!  Love 
alone  can  pass  yon  flaming  barrier — love  alone  can  gain  for 
thee  eternal  bliss.  In  love  and  for  love  were  all  things  made 
— God  loveth  His  creatures,  even  so  let  His  creatures  love 
Him,  and  so  shall  the  twain  be  drawn  together." 

"Listen!"  added  my  Angel-guide.  "Thou  hast  not  trav- 
eled so  far  as  yet  to  remain  in  ignorance.  That  burning  Eing 
thou  seest  is  the  result  of  the  Creator's  ever-working  Intel- 
ligence; from  it  all  the  Universe  hath  sprung.  It  is  exhaust- 
less  and  perpetually  creative;"  it  is  pure  and  perfect  Light. 
The  smallest  spark  of  that  fiery  essence  in  a  mortal  frame 
is  sufficient  to  form  a  soul  or  spirit,  such  as  mine,  or  that 
of  Azul,  or  thine,  when  thou  art  perfected.  The  huge  world 
rolling  within  the  Eing  is  where  God  dwells.  Dare  not  thou 
to  question  His  shape.  His  look.  His  mien!  Know  that  He 
is  the  Supreme  Spirit  in  which  all  Beauty,  all  Perfection, 
all  Love,  find  consummation.  His  breath  is  the  fire  of  the 
Eing;  His  look.  His  ])leasurc,  cause  the  motion  of  His  World 
and  all  worlds.  There  where  He  dwells,  dwell  also  all  pure 
souls;  there  all  desires  have  fulfilment  without  satiety,  and 
there  all  loveliness,  wisdom  or  pleasure  known  in  any  or  all 
of  the  other  spheres  are  also  known.  Speak,  Azul,  and  tell 
this  wanderer  from  Earth  \\'liat  she  will  gain  in  winning 
her  place  in  Heaven." 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  147 

Azul  looked  tenderly  upon  me  and  said: 

"When  thou  hast  slept  the  brief  sleep  of  death,  when  thou 
art  permitted  to  throw  off  forever  thy  garb  of  clay,  and  when 
by  thine  own  ceaseless  love  and  longing  thou  liast  won  the 
right  to  pass  the  Great  Circle,  thou  shalt  find  thyself  in  a 
land  where  the  glories  of  the  natural  scenery  alone  shall 
overpower  thee  with  joy — scenery  that  forever  changes  into 
new  wonders  and  greater  beauty.  Thou  shalt  hear  music 
such  as  thou  canst  not  dream  of.  Thou  shalt  find  friends, 
beyond  all  imagination  fair  and  faithful.  Thou  shalt  read 
and  see  the  history  of  all  the  planets,  produced  for  thee  in 
an  ever-moving  panorama.  Thou  shalt  love  and  be  loved 
forever  by  thine  own  Twin  Soul;  wherever  that  spirit  may 
be  now,  it  must  join  thee  hereafter.  The  joys  of  learning, 
memory,  consciousness,  sleejj,  waking,  and  exercise  shall  all 
be  thine.  Sin,  sorrow,  pain,  disease  and  death  thou  shalt 
know  no  more.  Thou  shalt  be  able  to  remember  happiness, 
to  possess  it,  and  to  look  forward  to  it.  Thou  shalt  have  full 
and  pleasant  occupation  without  fatigue — thy  food  and  sub- 
stance shall  be  light  and  air.  Flowers,  rare  and  im.perishable, 
shall  bloom  for  thee;  birds  of  exquisite  form  and  tender  voice 
shall  sing  to  thee;  angels  shall  be  thy  companions.  Thou 
shalt  have  fresh  and  glad  desires  to  offer  to  God  with  every 
portion  of  thy  existence,  and  each  one  shall  be  granted  as 
soon  as  asked,  for  then  thou  wilt  not  be  able  to  ask  anything 
that  is  displeasing  to  Him.  But  because  it  is  a  joy  to  wish, 
thou  shalt  wish!  and  because  it  is  a  joy  to  grant,  so  also 
will  He  grant.  No  delight,  small  or  great,  is  Avanting  in  that 
vast  sphere;  only  sorrow  is  lacking,  and  satiety  and  disap- 
pointment have  no  place.  Wilt  thou  seek  for  admittance 
there  or  wilt  thou  faint  by  the  way  and  grow  weary?" 

I  raised  my  eyes  full  of  ecstasy  and  reverence. 

"My  mere  efforts  must  count  as  nothing,"  I  said;  ''but 
if  Love  can  help  me,  I  will  love  and  long  for  God's  World 
until  I  die!" 

My  guardian  Angel  pointed  to  those  rays  of  light  I  had 
before  noticed,  that  slanted  downward  toward  Earth  in  the 
form  of  a  Cross. 

"That  is  the  path  by  which  thou  must  travel.  Mark  it 
well.  All  pilgrims  from  the  Sorrowful  Star  must  journey  by 
that  road.  Woe  to  them  that  turn  aside  to  roam  'mid  spheres 
they  know  not  of,  to  lose  themselves  in  seas  of  light  wherein 


148  iAi   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

they  cannot  steer!  Eemember  my  warning!  And  now.  Spirit 
who  art  commended  to  my  watchful  care,  thy  brief  hberty 
is  ended.  Thou  hast  been  Hfted  up  to  the  outer  edge  of  the 
Electric  Circle,  further  Ave  dare  not  take  thee.  Hast  thou 
aught  else  to  ask  before  the  veil  of  mortality  again  enshrouds 
thee?" 

I  answered  not,  but  within  myself  I  formed  a  wild  desire. 
The  Electric  Eing  flashed  fiercely  on  my  uplifted  eyes,  but  I 
kept  them  fixed  hopefully  and  lovingly  on  its  intensely  deep 
brilliancy. 

"If  Love  and  Faith  can  avail  me,"  I  murmured,  "I  shall 
see  what  I  have  sought." 

I  was  not  disappointed.  The  fiery  waves  of  light  parted 
on  either  side  of  the  spot  where  I  with  my  companions  rested; 
and  a  Figure, — majestic,  unutterably  grand  and  beautiful, — 
approached  me.  At  the  same  moment  a  number  of  other 
faces  and  forms  shone  hoveringly  out  of  the  Eing;  one  I 
noticed  like  an  exquisitely  lovely  woman,  with  floating  hair 
and  clear,  earnest,  unfathomable  eyes.  Azul  and  the  Angol 
sank  reverently  down  and  drooped  their  radiant  heads  like 
flowers  in  hot  sunshine.  I  alone,  daringly,  yet  with  inexpres- 
sible affection  welling  up  within  me,  watched  with  unshrink- 
ing gaze  the  swift  advance  of  that  supreme  Figure,  upon 
whose  broad  brows  rested  the  faint  semblance  of  a  Crown  of 
Thorns.     A  voice  penetratingly  sweet  addressed  me: 

"Mortal  from  the  Star  I  saved  from  ruin,  because  thou 
hast  desired  Me,  I  come!  Even  as  thy  former  unbelief,  shall 
be  now  thy  faith.  Because  thou  lovest  Me,  I  am  with  thee. 
For  do  I  not  know  thee  better  than  the  Angels  can?  Have  I 
not  dwelt  in  thy  clay,  suffered  thy  sorrows,  wept  thy  tears, 
died  thy  deaths?  One  with  ^ly  Father,  and  3^et  one  with  thee, 
I  demand  thy  love,  and  so  through  Me  shalt  thou  attain 
immortal  life!" 

I  felt  a  touch  upon  me  like  a  scorching  flame — a  thrill 
rushed  through  my  being — and  then  I  knew  that  I  was  sink- 
ing down,  down,  further  and  further  away.  I  saw  that  won- 
drous Figure  standing  serene  and  smiling  between  the  retir- 
ing waves  of  electric  radiance.  I  saw  the  great  inner  sphere 
revolve,  and  glitter  as  it  rolled,  like  an  enormous  diamond 
encircled  with  gold  and  sap]:)hire,  and  then  all  suddenly  the 
air  grew  dim  and  cloudy,  and  the  sensation  of  falling  became 
more  and  more  rapid.    Azul  was  beside  me  still,  and  I  also 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  149 

jDerceived  the  outline  of  my  guardian  Angel's  form,  though 
that  was  growing  indistinct.  I  now  recalled  the  request  of 
Heliobas,  and  spoke: 

"Azul,  tell  me  what  shadow  rests  upon  the  life  of  him 
to  whom  I  am  now  returning?" 

Azul  looked  at  me  earnestly,  and  replied: 

"Thou  daring  one!  Seekest  thou  to  pierce  the  future  fate 
of  others?  Is  it  not  enough  for  thee  to  have  heard  the  voice 
that  maketh  the  Angel's  singing  silent,  and  wouldst  thou  yet 
know  more?" 

I  was  full  of  a  strange  unhesitating  courage,  therefore  I 
said  fearlessly: 

"He  is  thy  Beloved  one,  Azul — thy  Twin  Soul;  and  wilt 
thou  let  him  fall  away  from  thee  when  a  word  or  sign  might 
save  him?" 

"Even  as  he  is  my  Beloved,  so  let  him  not  fail  to  hear  my 
voice,"  replied  Azul,  with  a  tinge  of  melancholy.  "For 
though  he  has  accomplished  much,  he  is  as  yet  but  mortal. 
Thou  canst  guide  him  thus  far;  tell  him,  when  death  lies  like 
a  gift  in  his  hand,  let  him  withhold  it,  and  remember  me. 
And  now,  my  friend — farewell!" 

I  would  have  spoken  again,  but  could  not.  An  oppressed 
sensation  came  over  me,  and  I  seemed  to  plunge  coldly  into 
a  depth  of  inextricable  blackness.  I  felt  cramped  for  room, 
and  struggled  for  existence,  for  motion,  for  breath.  What 
had  happened  to  me?  I  wondered  indignantly.  Was  I  a 
fettered  prisoner?  had  I  lost  the  use  of  my  light  aerial  limbs 
that  had  borne  me  so  swiftly  through  the  realms  of  space? 
What  crushing  weight  overpowered  me?  why  such  want  of 
air  and  loss  of  dehghtful  ease?  I  sighed  restlessly  and  impa- 
tiently at  the  narrow  darkness  in  which  I  found  myself — a 
sorrowful,  deep,  shuddering  sigh  ....  and  woke!  That 
is  to  say,  I  languidly  opened  mortal  eyes  to  find  myself  once 
more  pent  up  in  mortal  frame,  though  I  retained  a  perfect 
remembrance  and  consciousness  of  everything  I  had  expe- 
rienced during  my  spirit-wanderings.  Heliobas  stood  in  front 
of  me  with  outstretched  hands,  and  his  eyes  were  fixed  on 
mine  with  a  mingled  expression  of  anxiety  and  authority, 
which  changed  into  a  look  of  relief  and  gladness  as  I  smiled 
at  him  and  uttered  his  name  aloud. 


150  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SECRETS  OF  THE  SUN  AND  MOON. 

"Have  I  been  long  away?"  I  asked,  as  I  raised  myself 
upright  in  the  chair  where  I  had  been  resting. 

"I  sent  you  from  hence  on  Thursday  morning  at  noon," 
replied  Heliobas.  "It  is  now  Friday  evening,  and  within  a 
few  minutes  of  midnight.  I  was  growing  alarmed.  I  have 
never  known  anyone  stay  absent  for  so  long;  and  you 
resisted  my  authority  so  powerfully,  that  I  began  to  fear  you 
would  never  come  back  at  all." 

"I  wish  I  had  not  been  compelled  to  do  so!"  I  said  regret- 
fully. 

He  smiled. 

"No  doubt  you  do.  It  is  the  general  complaint.  Will 
you  stand  up  now  and  see  how  you  feel?" 

I  obeyed.  There  was  still  a  slight  sensation  about  me 
as  of  being  cramped  for  space;  but  this  was  passing,  and 
otherwise  I  felt  singularly  strong,  bright  and  vigorous.  I 
stretched  out  my  hands  in  unspeakable  gratitude  to  him 
through  whose  scientific  power  I  had  gained  my  recent  ex- 
perience. 

"I  can  never  thank  you  enough!"  I  said  earnestly.  "I  dare 
say  you  know  something  of  what  I  have  seen  on  my  journey?" 

"Something,  but  not  all,"  he  replied.  "Of  course  I  know 
what  worlds  and  systems  you  saw,  but  what  was  said  to  you, 
or  what  special  lessons  were  given  you  for  your  comfort,  I 
cannot  tell." 

"Then  I  Avill  describe  everything  while  it  is  fresh  upon  me," 
I  returned.  "I  feel  that  I  must  do  so  in  order  that  you  may 
understand  how  glad  I  am, — how  grateful  I  am  to  you." 

I  then  related  the  different  scenes  through  which  I  had 
passed,  omitting  no  detail.  Heliobas  listened  with  profound 
interest  and  attention.     When  I  had  finished,  he  said: 

"Yours  has  been  a  most  wonderful,  I  may  say  almost 
exceptional,  experience.  It  proves  to  me  more  than  ever 
the  omnipotence  of  Will.  Most  of  those  who  have  been  placed 
by  my  means  in  the  Uplifted  or  Electric  state  of  being,  have 


A    ROMlANCE    OB^    TWO    WORLDS.  151 

consented  to  it  simply  to  gratify  a  sense  of  curiosity — few 
therefore  have  gone  beyond  the  pure  ether,  where,  as  in  a 
sea,  the  planets  swim.  Cellini,  for  instance,  never  went  far- 
ther than  Venus,  because  in  the  atmosphere  of  that  planet 
he  met  the  spirit  that  rules  and  divides  his  destiny.  Zara^ — 
she  was  daring,  and  reached  the  outer  rim  of  the  Great 
Circle;  but  even  she  never  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  great 
Central  Sphere.  You,  differing  from  these,  started  with  a 
daring  aim  which  you  never  lost  sight  of  till  you  had  fulfilled 
it.  How  true  are  those  words:  'Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given 
you;  seek,  and  ye  shall  find;  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you'!  It  is  not  possible,"  and  here  he  sighed,  "that 
amid  such  wonders  you  could  have  remembered  me — it  were 
foolish  on  my  part  to  expect  it." 

"I  confess  I  thought  nothing  of  you,"  I  said  frankly,  "till 
I  was  approaching  Earth  again;  but  then  my  memory  prompt- 
ed me  in  time,  and  I  did  not  forget  your  request." 

"And  what  did  you  learn?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"Simply  this.  Azul  said  that  I  might  deliver  you  this 
message:  When  death  lies  like  a  gift  in  your  hand,  withhold 
it,  and  remember  her." 

"As  if  I  did  not  always  guide  myself  by  her  promptings!" 
exclaimed  Heliobas,  wnth  a  tender  smile. 

"You  might  forget  to  do  so  for  once,"  I  said. 

"Never!"  he  replied  fervently.  "It  could  not  be.  But  I 
thank  you,  my  child,  for  having  thought  of  me — the  message 
you  bring  shall  be  impressed  strongly  on  my  mind.  Now, 
before  you  leave  me  to-night,  I  must  say  a  few  necessary 
words." 

He  paused,  and  appeared  to  consider  profoundly  for  some 
minutes.     At  last  he  spoke. 

"I  have  selected  certain  writings  for  your  perusal,"  he  said. 
"In  them  you  will  find  full  and  clear  instructions  how  to 
cultivate  and  educate  the  electric  force  within  you,  and  thus 
continue  the  work  I  have  begun.  With  these  you  will  also 
perceive  that  I  have  written  out  the  receipt  for  the  volatile 
fluid  which,  if  taken  in  a  small  quantity  every  day,  will  keep 
you  in  health,  strength,  and  intellectual  vigor,  while  it  will 
preserve  your  youth  and  enjoyment  of  life  to  a  very  much 
longer  extent  than  that  usually  experienced  by  the  majority. 
Understand  me  well — this  liquid  of  itself  cannot  put  you 
into  an  uplifted  state  of  existence;  you  need  human  electric 


152  lA:  romance  of  two  worlds. 

force  applied  strongly  to  your  system  to  compass  this;  and 
as  it  is  dangerous  to  try  the  experiment  too  often — dangerous 
to  the  hody,  I  mean — it  will  be  as  well,  as  you  have  work  to 
do  yet  in  this  life,  not  to  attempt  it  again.  But  if  you  drink 
the  fluid  ever}'^  morning  of  your  life,  and  at  the  same  time 
obey  my  written  manual  as  to  the  cultivation  of  your  own 
inner  force,  which  is  already  existent  in  a  large  degree,  you 
will  attain  to  certain  advantages  over  the  rest  of  the  people 
you  meet,  which  will  give  you  not  only  physical,  but  mental 
power." 

He  paused  a  minute  or  two,  and  again  went  on: 
"When  you  have  educated  your  Will  to  a  certain,  height 
of  electric  command,  you  can  at  your  pleasure  see  at  any 
time,  and  see  plainly,  the  spirits  who  inhabit  the  air;  and 
also  those  who,  descending  to  long  distances  below  the  Great 
Circle,  come  within  the  range  of  human  electricity,  or  the 
attractive  matter  contained  in  the  Earth's  atmosphere.  You 
can  converse  with  them,  and  they  with  you.  You  will 
also  be  able,  at  your  desire,  to  see  the  parted  spirits  of  dead 
persons,  so  long  as  they  linger  within  Earth's  radius,  which 
they  seldom  do,  being  always  anxious  to  escape  from  it  as 
soon  as  possible.  Love  may  sometimes  detain  them,  or  re- 
morse; but  even  these  have  to  yield  to  the  superior  longings 
which  possess  them  the  instant  they  are  set  free.  You  will, 
in  your  intercourse  with  your  fellow-mortals,  be  able  to  dis- 
cern their  motives  quickly  and  unerringly — you  will  at  once 
discover  where  you  are  loved  and  where  you  are  disliked; 
and  not  all  the  learning  and  logic  of  so-called  philosophers 
shall  be  able  to  cloud  your  instinct.  You  will  have  a  keener 
appreciation  of  good  and  beautiful  things — a  delightful  sense 
of  humor,  and  invariable  cheerfulness;  and  whatever  you 
do,  unless  you  make  some  mistake  by  your  own  folly,  will 
carry  with  it  its  success.  And  what  is  perhaps  a  greater 
privilege,  you  will  find  that  all  who  are  brought  into  very 
close  contact  with  you  will  be  beneficially  influenced,  or  the 
reverse,  exactly  as  you  choose  to  exert  your  power.  I  do  not 
think,  after  what  you  have  seen,  you  will  ever  desire  to  exert 
a  malign  influence,  knowing  that  the  Creator  of  your  being 
is  all  love  and  forgiveness.  At  any  rate,  the  greatest  force 
in  the  universe,  electricity,  is  yours — that  is,  it  has  begun  to 
form  itself  in  you — and  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  en- 
courage its  growth,  Just  as  you  would  encourage  a  taste  for 
music  or  the  fine  arts.    Now  let  me  give  you  the  writings." 


A   ROMANCE   OP   TWO   WORLDS.  153 

He  unlocked  a  desk,  and  took  from  it  two  small  rolls  of 
parchment,  one  tied  with  a  gold  ribbon,  the  other  secured 
in  a  land  of  case  with  a  clasp.  This  last  he  held  up  before 
my  eyes,  and  said: 

"This  contains  my  private  instructions  to  you.  Never 
make  a  single  one  of  them  public.  The  world  is  not  ready 
for  wisdom,  and  the  secrets  of  science  can  only  be  explained 
to  the  few.  Therefore  keep  this  parchment  safely  under 
lock  and  key,  and  never  let  any  eye  but  your  own  look  upon 
its  contents." 

I  promised,  and  he  handed  it  to  me.  Then  taking  the 
other  roll,  which  was  tied  with  ribbon,  he  said: 

"Here  is  written  out  what  I  call  the  Electric  Principle 
of  Christianity.  This  is  for  your  own  study  and  considera- 
tion; still,  if  you  ever  desire  to  explain  my  theory  to  others, 
I  do  not  forbid  you.  But  as  I  told  you  before,  you  can  never 
compel  belief — the  goldfish  in  a  glass  bowl  will  never  under- 
stand the  existence  of  the  ocean.  Be  satisfied  if  you  can 
guide  yourself  by  the  compass  you  have  found,  but  do  not 
grieve  if  you  are  unable  to  guide  others.  You  may  try,  but 
it  will  not  be  surprising  if  you  fail.  Nor  will  it  be  your  fault. 
The  only  sorrow  that  might  happen  to  you  in  these  efforts 
would  be  in  case  you  should  love  someone  very  dearly,  and 
yet  be  unable  to  instill  the  truth  of  what  you  know  into  that 
particular  soul.  You  would  then  have  to  make  a  discovery, 
which  is  always  more  or  less  painful — namely,  that  your 
love  was  misplaced,  inasmuch  as  the  nature  you  had  selected  as 
worthy  of  love  had  no  part  with  yours;  and  that  separation 
utter  and  eternal  must  therefore  occur,  if  not  in  this  life, 
then  in  the  future.  So  I  would  say  beware  of  loving,  lest 
you  should  not  love  rightly — though  I  believe  you  will  soon 
he  able  to  discern  clearly  the  spirit  that  is  by  fate  destined 
to  complete  and  perfect  your  own.  And  now,  though  I  know 
vou  are  scarcely  fatigued  enough  to  sleep,  I  will  say  good- 
night." 

I  took  the  second  roll  of  parchment  from  his  hand,  and 
opening  it  a  little  way,  I  saw  that  it  was  covered  with  very 
fine  small  writing.    Then  I  said: 

"Does  Zara  know  how  long  I  have  been  absent?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Heliobas;  "and  she,  like  myself,  was  sur- 
prised and  anxious.    I  think  she  went  to  bed  long  ago;   but 


154  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

you  may  look  into  her  room  and  see  if  she  is  awake,  before 
yon  yourself  retire  to  rest." 

As  he  spoke  of  Zara  his  eyes  grew  melancholy  and  his 
brow  clouded.    An  instinctive  sense  of  fear  came  upon  me. 

"Is  she  not  well?"  I  asked. 

"She  is  perfectly  well,"  he  answered.  "Why  should  you 
imagine  her  to  he  otherwise?" 

"Pardon  me,"  I  said;  "I  fancied  that  you  looked  unhappy 
when  I  mentioned  her." 

Ileliobas  made  no  answer.  He  stepped  to  the  window,  and 
throwing  hack  the  curtain,  called  me  to  his  side. 

"Look  out  yonder,"  he  said  in  low  and  earnest  tones;  "look 
at  the  dark  blue  veil  strewn  with  stars,  through  which  so 
lately  your  daring  soul  pierced  its  flight!  See  how  the  small 
Moon  hangs  like  a  lamp  in  Heaven,  apparently  outshining 
the  myriad  worlds  around  her,  that  are  so  much  vaster  and 
fairer!  How  deceptive  is  the  human  eye! — nearly  as  decep- 
tive as  the  human  reason.  Tell  me — why  did  you  not  visit 
the  Moon,  or  the  Sun,  in  your  recent  wanderings?" 

This  question  caused  me  some  surprise.  It  was  certainly 
very  strange  that  I  had  not  thought  of  doing  so.  Yet,  on 
pondering  the  matter  in  my  mind,  I  remembered  that  during 
my  aerial  journey  suns  and  moons  had  been  no  more  to 
me  than  flowers  strewn  on  a  meadow.  I  now  regretted  that 
I  had  not  sought  to  know  something  of  those  two  fair  lumi- 
naries which  light  and  warm  our  earth. 

Heliobas,  after  watching  my  face  intently,  resumed: 

"You  cannot  guess  the  reason  of  your  omission?  I  will 
tell  you.  There  is  nothing  to  see  in  either  Sun  or  Moon. 
They  were  both  inhabited  worlds  once;  but  the  dwellers  in 
the  Sun  have  ages  ago  lived  their  lives  and  passed  to  the 
Central  Sphere.  The  Sun  is  nothing  now  but  a  burning 
world,  burning  rapidly,  and  surely,  away:  or  rather,  it  is 
being  absorbed  back  into  the  Electric  Circle  from  which  it 
originally  sprang,  to  be  thrown  out  again  in  some  new  and 
grander  form.  And  so  with  all  wortds,  suns  and  systems, 
forever  and  ever.  Hundreds  of  thousands  of  those  brief  time- 
breathings  called  years  may  pass  before  this  consummation 
of  the  Sun;  but  its  destruction  is  going  on  now,  or  rather 
its  absorption — and  we  on  our  cold  small  star  warm  ourselves, 
and  are  glad,  in  the  light  of  an  empty  world  on  fire!" 

I  listened  with  awe  and  interest. 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  i5o 

"And  the  Moon?"  I  asked  eagerly. 

"The  Moon  does  not  exist.  What  we  see  is  the  reflection 
or  the  electrograph  of  what  she  once  was.  Atmospherical 
electricity  has  imprinted  this  picture  of  a  long-ago  living 
world  upon  the  heavens^  just  as  Eaphael  drew  his  cartoons 
for  the  men  of  to-day  to  see." 

"But,"  I  exclaimed  in  surprise,  "how  about  the  Moon's 
influence  on  the  tides?   and  what  of  eclipses?" 

"I^ot  the  Moon,  but  the  electric  photograph  of  a  once 
living  but  now  absorbed  world,  has  certainly  an  influence 
on  the  tides.  The  sea  is  impregnated  with  electricity.  Just 
as  the  Sun  will  absorb  colors,  so  the  electricity  in  the  sea 
is  repelled  or  attracted  by  the  electric  jDicture  of  the  Moon 
in  Heaven.  Because,  as  a  joainting  is  full  of  color,  so  is  that 
faithful  sketch  of  a  vanished  sphere,  drawn  with  a  pencil  of 
pure  light,  full  of  immense  electricity;  and  to  carry  the  simile 
further,  just  as  a  painting  may  be  said  to  be  formed  of  various 
dark  and  light  tints,  so  the  electric  portrait  of  the  Moon  con- 
tains various  degrees  of  electric  force — which,  coming  in  con- 
tact with  the  electricity  of  the  Earth's  atmosphere,  produces 
dift'erent  effects  on  us  and  on  the  natural  scenes  amid  which 
we  dwell.  As  for  eclipses — if  you  slowly  pass  a  round  screen 
between  yourself  and  a  blazing  fire,  you  will  only  see  the  edges 
of  the  fire.  In  the  same  way  the  electrograph  of  the  j\Ioon 
passes  at  stated  intervals  between  the  Earth  and  the  burning 
world  of  the  Sun." 

■"Yet  surely,"  I  said,  "the  telescope  has  enabled  us  to  see 
the  Moon  as  a  solid  globe — we  have  discerned  mountains  and 
valleys  on  its  surface;  and  then  it  revolves  round  us  regularly 
— how  do  you  account  for  these  facts?" 

"The  telescope,"  returned  Ileliobas,  "is  merely  an  aid  to  the 
human  eye;  and,  as  I  told  you  before,  nothing  is  so  easily  de- 
ceived as  our  sense  of  vision,  even  when  assisted  by  mechanical 
appliances.  The  telescope,  like  the  steroscope,  simply  enables 
us  to  see  the  portrait  of  the  Moon  more  clearly;  but  all  the 
same,  the  Moon,  as  a  world,  does  not  exist.  Her  likeness,  taken 
by  electricity,  may  last  some  thousands  of  years,  and  as  long 
as  it  lasts  it  must  revolve  around  us,  because  everything  in  the 
universe  moves,  and  moves  in  a  circle.  Besides  which,  this 
portrait  of  the  moon  being  composed  of  pure  electricity,  is 
attracted  and  forced  to  follow  the  Earth  by  the  compelling  in- 
fluence of  the  Earth's  own  electric  power.    Therefore,  till  the 


156  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

picture  fades,  it  must  attend  the  Earth  like  the  haunting 
spectre  of  a  dead  joy.  You  can  understand  now  why  we  never 
see  what  we  imagine  to  he  the  other  side  of  the  Moon.  It  sim- 
ply has  no  other  side,  except  space.  Space  is  the  canvas — the 
Moon  is  a  sketch.  How  interested  we  are  when  a  discovery  is 
made  of  some  rare  old  painting,  of  which  the  subject  is  a  per- 
fectly beautiful  woman!  It  hears  no  name — perhaps  no  date 
— hut  the  face  that  smiles  at  us  is  exquisite — the  lips  yet  pout 
for  kisses — the  eyes  brim  over,  with  love!  And  we  admire  it 
tenderly  and  reverently — we  mark  it  'Portrait  of  a  lady,'  and 
give  it  an  honored  place  among  our  art  collections.  With  how 
much  more  reverence  and  tenderness  ought  we  to  look  up  at 
the  'Portrait  of  a  Fair  Lost  Sphere,'  circling  yonder  in  that 
dense  ever-moving  gallery  of  wonders  where  the  hurrying 
throng  of  spectators  are  living  and  dying  worlds!" 

I  had  followed  the  speaker's  words  with  fascinated  atten- 
tion, but  now  I  said: 

"Dying,  Heliobas?    There  is  no  death." 

"True!"  he  answered,  with  hesitating  slowness.  "But  there 
is  what  we  call  death — transition — and  it  is  always  a  parting." 

"But  not  for  long!"  I  exclaimed,  with  all  the  gladness  and 
eagerness  of  my  lately  instructed  soul.  "As  worlds  are  ab- 
sorbed into  the  Electric  Circle  and  again  thrown  out  in  new 
and  more  glorious  forms,  so  are  we  absorbed  and  changed  into 
shapes  of  perfect  beauty,  having  eyes  that  are  strong  and  pure 
enough  to  look  God  in  the  face.  The  body  perishes — but 
what  have  we  to  do  with  the  body — our  prison  and  place  of 
experience,  except  to  rejoice  when  we  shake  off  its  weight  for 
ever!" 

Heliobas  smiled  gravely. 

"You  have  learned  your  high  lesson  well,"  he  said.  "You 
speak  with  the  assurance  and  delight  of  a  spirit  satisfied.  But 
when  I  talk  of  death,  I  mean  by  that  word  the  parting  asunder 
of  two  souls  who  love  each  other;  and  though  such  separation 
may  be  brief,  still  it  is  always  a  separation.  For  instance,  sup- 
pose  "  he  hesitated;  "suppose. Zara  were  to  die?" 

"Well,  you  would  soon  meet  her  again,"  I  answered.  "For 
though  you  might  live  many  years  after  her,  still  you  would 
know  in  yourself  that  those  years  were  but  minutes  in  the 
realms  of  space " 

"Minutes  that  decide  our  destinies,"  he  interrupted  with 
solemnity.    "And  there  is  always  this  possibility  to  contem- 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  157 

plate — suppose  Zara  were  to  leave  me  now,  how  can  I  be  sure 
that  I  shall  he  strong  enough  to  live  out  my  remainder  of  life 
purely  enough  to  deserve  to  meet  her  again?  And  if  not  then 
Zara's  death  would  moan  utter  and  almost  hopeless  separation 
forever — though  perhaps  I  might  begin  over  again  in  some 
other  form,  and  so  reach  the  goal." 

He  spoke  so  musingly  and  seriously  that  I  was  surprised, 
for  I  had  thought  him  impervious  to  such  a  folly  as  the  fear 
of  death. 

"You  are  melancholy,  Heliobas,''  I  said.  "In  the  first  place, 
Zara  is  not  going  to  leave  you  yet;  and  secondly,  if  she  did, 
you  know  your  strongest  efforts  would  be  brought  to  bear  on 
your  career,  in  order  that  no  shadow  of  obstinacy  or  error 
might  obstruct  your  path.  Why,  the  very  essence  of  our  be- 
lief is  in  the  strength  of  AYill-power,  What  we  will  to  do,  es- 
pecially if  it  be  any  act  of  spiritual  progress,  we  can  always 
accomplish." 

Heliobas  took  my  hand  and  pressed  it  warmly. 

"You  are  so  lately  come  from  the  high  regions,"  he  said, 
"that  it  warms  and  invigorates  me  to  hear  your  encouraging 
words.  Pray  do  not  think  me  capable  of  jdelding  long  to  the 
wealaiess  of  foreboding.  I  am,  in  spite  of  my  advancement  in 
electric  science,  nothing  but  a  man,  and  am  apt  to  be  ham- 
pered oftentimes  by  my  mortal  trappings.  We  have  prolonged 
our  conversation  further  than  I  intended.  I  assure  you  it  is  bet- 
ter for  yoM  to  try  to  sleep,  even  though,  as  I  know,  you  feel 
so  wide  awake.  Let  me  give  you  a  soothing  draught;  it  will 
have  the  effect  of  composing  your  physical  nerves  into  steady 
working  order." 

He  poured  something  from  a  small  phial  into  a  glass,  and 
handed  it  to  me.  I  drank  it  at  once,  obediently,  and  with  a 
smile. 

"Good  night,  my  Master!"  I  then  said.  "You  need  have 
no  fear  of  your  own  successful  upward  progress.  Tor  if  there 
were  the  slightest  chance  of  your  falling  into  fatal  error,  all 
those  hu-man  souls  you  have  benefited  would  labor  and  pray 
for  your  rescue;  and  I  know  now  that  prayers  reach  Heaven, 
so  long  as  they  are  unselfish.  1,  though  I  am  one  of  the  least 
of  your  disciples,  out  of  the  deep  gratitude  of  my  heart  to- 
wards you,  will  therefore  pray  unceasingly  for  you,  both  here 
and  hereafter." 

He  bent  his  head. 


158  A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

"I  thank  you!"  he  said  simply.  "More  deeds  are  wrought 
by  prayer  than  this  world  dreams  of!  That  is  a  true  saying. 
God  bless  you,  my  child.    Good-night!" 

And  he  opened  the  door  of  his  study  for  me  io  pass  out. 
As  I  did  so,  he  laid  his  hand  lightly  on  my  head  in  a  sort  of 
unspoken  benediction — then  he  closed  his  door,  and  I  found 
myself  alone  in  the  great  hall.  A  suspended  lamp  was  burn- 
ing brightly,  and  the  fountain  was  gurgling  melodiously  to  it- 
self in  a  subdued  manner,  as  if  it  were  learning  a  new  song 
for  the  morning.  I  sped  across  the  mosaic  pavement  with  a 
light  eager  step,  and  linrried  up  the  stairs,  intent  on  finding 
Zara  to  tell  her  how  happy  I  felt,  and  how  satisfied  I  was  with 
my  wonderful  experience.  I  reached  the  door  of  her  bedroom 
— it  was  ajar.  I  softly  puslied  it  farther  open,  and  looked  in. 
A  small  but  exquisitely  modelled  statue  of  an  "Eros"  orna- 
mented one  corner.  His  u])lifted  torch  served  as  a  light  which 
ghmmered  faintly  through  a  rose-colored  glass,  and  shed  a 
tender  lustre  over  the  room;  but  especially  upon  the  bed,  or- 
namented with  rich  Oriental  needlework,  where  Zara  lay  fast 
asleep.  How  beautiful  she  looked!  Almost  as  lovely  as  any 
one  of  the  radiant  spirits  I  had  met  in  my  aerial  journey!  Her 
rich  dark  hair  was  scattered  loosely  on  the  white  pillows;  her 
long  silky  lashes  curled  softly  on  the  delicately  tinted  cheeks; 
her  lips,  tenderly  red,  like  the  color  on  budding  apple-blos- 
soms in  early  spring,  vv'ere  slightly  parted,  showing  the  glim- 
mer of  the  small  Avhite  teeth  within;  her  night-dress  was 
slightly  undone,  and  half  displayed  and  half  disguised  her 
neck  and  daintily  rounded  bosom,  on  which  the  electric  jewel 
she  always  wore  glittered  brilliantly  as  it  rose  and  sank  with 
her  regular  and  quiet  breathing.  One  fair  hand  lay  outside  the 
coverlet,  and  the  reflection  from  the  lamp  of  the  "Eros"  flick- 
ered on  a  ring  which  adorned  it,  making  its  central  diamond 
flash  like  a  wandering  star. 

I  looked  long  and  tenderly  on  this  perfect  ideal  of  a  "Sleep- 
ing Beauty,"  and  then  thought  I  would  draw  closer  and  see 
if  I  could  kiss  her  without  awakening  her.  I  advanced  a  few 
steps  into  the  room — when  suddenly  I  was  stopped.  Within 
about  a  yard's  distance  from  the  bed  a  Something  opposed  my 
approach!  I  could  not  move  a  foot  forward — I  tried  vigor- 
ously, but  in  vain!  I  could  step  backward,  and  that  was  all. 
Between  me  and  Zara  there  seemed  to  be  an  invisible  barrier, 
strong  and  absolutely  impregnable.     There  was  nothing  to 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  159 

be  seen — nothing  but  the  softly-shaded  room — the  ever- 
smiling  "Eros,"  and  the  exquisite  reposeful  figure  of  my  sleep- 
ing friend.  Two  steps,  and  I  could  have  touched  her;  but 
those  two  steps  I  was  forcibly  prevented  from  making — as 
forcibly  as  though  a  deep  ocean  had  rolled  between  her  and 
me.  I  did  not  stop  long  to  consider  this  strange  occurrence — ■ 
I  felt  sure  it  had  something  to  do  with  her  spiritual  life  and 
sympathy,  therefore  it  neither  alarmed  nor  perplexed  me. 
Kissing  my  hand  tenderly  towards  my  darling,  who  lay  so 
close  to  me,  and  who  was  yet  so  jealously  and  invisibly  guarded 
during  her  slumbers,  I  softly  and  reverently  withdrew.  On 
reaching  my  own  apartment,  I  was  more  than  half  inclined 
to  sit  up  reading  and  studying  the  parchments  Heliobas  had 
given  me;  but  on  second  thought  I  resolved  to  lock  up  these 
])recious  manuscripts  and  go  to  bed.  I  did  so,  and  before  pre- 
paring to  sleep  I  remembered  to  kneel  down  and  offer  up 
l^raise  and  honor,  with  a  loving  and  believing  heart,  to  that 
Supreme  Glory,  of  which  I  hacl  been  marvellously  permitted 
to  enjoy  a  brief  but  transcendent  glimpse.  And  as  I  knelt, 
absorbed  and  happy,  I  heard,  like  a  soft  echo  falling  through 
the  silence  of  my  room,  a  sound  like  distant  music,  through 
which  these  words  floated  towards  me:  "A  new  command- 
ment give  I  unto  you,  that  you  love  one  another,  even  as  I 
have  loved  you!" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
SOCIABLE    CONVERSE. 

The  next  morning  Zara  came  herself  to  awaken  me,  looking 
as  fresh  and  lovely  as  a  summer  morning.  She  embraced  me 
very  ten(;lerly,  and  said: 

"I  have  been  talking  for  more  than  an  hour  Avith  GVisimir. 
He  has  told  me  everything.  What  wonders  you  have  seen! 
And  are  you  not  happy,  dearest?  Are  you  not  strong  and  sat- 
isfied?" 

"Perfectly!"  I  replied.  "But,  0  Zara!  what  a  pity  that  all 
the  world  should  not  know  what  we  know!" 

"All  have  not  a  desire  for  knowledge,"  replied  Zara.  "Even 
in  your  vision  of  the  garden  you  possessed,  there  were  only 
a  few  who  still  sought  you;  for  those  few  you  Avould  have 
done  anything,  but  for  the  others  your  best  etiorts  were  in 
vain/' 


160  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

"They  might  not  have  been  always  in  vain,"  I  said  mu- 
singly. 

"No,  they  might  not/'  agreed  Zara.  "That  is  just  the  case 
of  the  world  to-day.  While  there  is  life  in  it,  there  is  also 
hope.  And  talking  of  the  world,  let  me  remind  you  tliat  you 
are  back  in  it  now,  and  must  therefore  be  hampered  with  tire- 
some trivialities.  Two  of  these  are  as  folhiws:  First,  here  is 
a  letter  for  you,  whicli  has  just  come;  secondly,  breakfast  will 
be  ready  in  twenty  minutes!" 

I  looked  at  her  smiling  face 'attentively.  She  was  the  very 
embodiment  of  vigorous  physical  health  and  beauty;  it  seemed 
like  a  dream  to  remember  her  in  the  past  night,  guarded  by 
that  invincible  barrier,  the  work  of  no  mortal  hand.  I  ut- 
tered nothing,  however,  of  these  thoughts,  and  responding  to 
her  evident  gaiety  of  heart,  I  smiled  also. 

"I  Avill  be  down  punctual!}^  at  the  expiration  of  the  twenty 
minutes,"  I  said.  "I  assure  you,  Zara,  I  am  quite  sensible  of 
tlie  claims  of  earthly  existence  upon  me.  For  instance,  I  am 
very  hungry,  and  I  shall  enjoy  breakfast  immensely  if  you 
Avill  make  the  coffee." 

Zara,  who  among  her  other  accomplishments  had  the  secret 
of  making  coffee  to  perfection,  promised  laughingly  to  make 
it  extra  well,  and  flitted  from  the  room,  singing  softly  as  she 
went  a  fragment  of  tlie  ISTeapolitan  Stornello: 

"Fior  di  mortelle 
Queste  manine  tue  son  tanto  belle! 

Fior  di  limone 
Ti  voglio  far  luorire  di  passione 

Salta!  lari — lira." 

The  letter  Zara  had  brought  me  was  from  Mrs.  Everard, 
announcing  that  she  would  arrive  in  Paris  that  very  day,  Sun- 
day. 

"By  the  time  you  get  this  note,"  so  ran  her  words,  "we  shall 
have  landed  at  the  Graaid  Hotel.  Come  and  see  us  at  once,  if 
you  can.  The  Colonel  is  anxious  to  judge  for  himself  how 
you  are  looking.  If  you  are  really  recovered  sufficiently  to 
leave  your  medical  pension,  we  shall  ])e  delighted  to  have  you 
Avitli  us  again.  I,  in  particular,  shall  be  glad,  for  it  is  real 
lonesome  when  the  Colonel  is  out,  and  I  do  hate  to  go  shop- 
ping by  myself.    So  take  pity  upon  your  affectionate 

Amy." 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  161 

Seated  at  breakfast,  I  discussed  this  letter  with  Heliobas 
and  Zara,  and  decided  that  I  would  call  at  the  Grand  Hotel 
that  morning. 

"I  wish  you  would  come  with  me,  Zara,"  I  said  wistfully. 

To  my  surprise,  she  answered: 

"Certainly  I  will,  if  you  like.  But  we  will  attend  High 
JMass  at  Notre  Dame  first.  There  will  be  plenty  of  time  for 
the  call  afterwards." 

I  gladly  agreed  to  this,  and  Heliobas  added  with  cheerful 
cordiality: 

'"Why  not  ask  your  friends  to  dine  here  to-morrow?  Zara's 
call  will  be  a  sufficient  opening  formality;  and  you  yourself 
have  been  long  enough  Avith  us  now  to  know  that  any  of  your 
friends  will  be  welcome  here.  We  might  have  a  pleasant  little 
party,  especially  if  you  add  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Challoner  and  their 
daughters  to  the  list.    And  I  will  ask  Ivan." 

I  glanced  at  Zara  when  the  Prince's  name  was  uttered,  but 
she  made  no  sign  of  either  olfense  or  indifference. 

"You  are  very  hospitable,"  I  said,  addressing  Heliobas; 
*'but  I  realh'  see  no  reason  why  you  should  throw  open  your 
doors  to  my  friends,  unless,  indeed,  you  specially  desire  to 
please  me." 

"Why,  of  course  I  do!"  he  replied  heartily;  and  Zara  looked 
up  and  smiled. 

"Then,"  I  returned,  "I  will  ask  them  to  come.  What  am  I 
to  say  about  my  recovery,  which  I  know  is  little  short  of  mi- 
raculous?" 

"Say,"  replied  Heliobas,  "that  you  have  been  cured  by  elec- 
tricity. There  is  nothing  surprising  in  such  a  statement  now- 
adays. But  say  nothing  of  the  human  electric  force  employed 
upon  you — no  one  would  believe  you,  and  the  effort  to  per- 
suade unpersuadable  people  is  always  a  waste  of  time." 

An  hour  after  this  conversation  Zara  and  I  were  in  the 
cathedral  of  Notre  Dame.  I  attended  the  service  with  very 
different  feelings  to  those  I  had  hitherto  experienced  during 
the  same  ceremony.  Formerly  my  mind  had  been  distracted 
by  harassing  doubts  and  perplexing  contradictions;  now  every- 
thing had  a  meaning  for  me — high,  and  solemn  and  sweet. 
As  the  incense  rose,  I  thought  of  those  rays  of  connecting 
light  I  had  seen,  on  which  prayers  travel  exactly  as  sound  trav- 
els through  the  telephone.  As  the  grand  organ  pealed  so- 
norously through  the  fragrant  air,  I  remembered  the  ever 


162  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

yoniliful  and  gracious  Spirits  of  Music,  one  of  whom,  Aeon, 
had  promised  to  be  my  fi-iend.  J  ust  to  try  the  strength  o"f  my 
own  electric  force,  I  wliispered  the  name  and  looked  up. 
There,  on  a  wide  slanting  ray  of  sunlight  that  fell  directly 
across  the  altar  was  the  angelic  face  I  well  remembered! — the 
delicate  hands  holding  the  semblance  of  a  harp,  in  air!  It  was 
but  for  an  instant  I  saw  it — one  brief  breathing-space  in  which 
its  smile  mingled  with  the  sunbeams  and  then  it  vanished. 
But  I  knew  I  was  not  forgotten,  and  the  deep  satisfaction  of 
my  soul  poured  itself  in  unspoken  praise  on  the  flood  of  the 
"Sanctus!  Sanctus!"  that  just  then  rolled  triumphantly 
through  the  aisles  of  Notre  Dame.  Zara  was  absorbed  in  silent 
prayer  throughout  the  Mass;  but  at  its  conclusion,  when  we 
came  out  of  the  cathedral,  she  was  unusually  gay  and  elate. 
She  conversed  vivaciously  with  me  concerning  the  social  mer- 
its and  accomplish.ments  of  the  people  we  were  going  to  visit; 
while  the  brisk  walk  through  the  frosty  air  brightened  her 
eyes  and  cheeks  into  warmer  lustre,  so  that  on  our  arrival  at 
the  Grand  Hotel  she  looked  to  my  fancy  even  lovelier  than 
usual. 

]\Irs.  Everard  did  not  keep  us  waiting  long  in  the  private 
salon  to  which  we  were  shown.  She  fluttered  down,  arrayed 
in  a  wonderful  "art"  gown  of  ferra-cotta  and  pale  blue  hues 
cunningly  intermixed,  and  proceeded  to  hug  me  with  dem- 
onstrative fervor.  Then  she  held  me  a  little  distance  off,  and 
examined  me  attentively. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said,  "you  are  simply  in  lovely  condi- 
tion! I  never  would  have  believed  it.  You  are  actually  as 
plump  and  pink  as  a  peach.  And  you  are  the  same  creature 
that  wailed  and  trembled,  and  had  palpitations  and  headaches 
and  stupors!  Your  doctor  must  be  a  perfect  magician.  I 
think  I  must  consult  him,  for  I  am  sure  I  don't  look  half  as 
well  as  you  do." 

And  indeed  she  did  not.  I  thought  she  had  a  tired,  dragged 
appearance,  but  I  would  not  say  so.  I  knew  her  well,  and  I 
was  perfectly  aware  that  though  she  was  fascinating  and  ele- 
gant in  every  way,  her  life  was  too  much  engrossed  in  trifles 
ever  to  yield  her  healthy  satisfaction. 

After  responding  warmly  to  her  affectionate  greeting,  I 
said: 

"Amy,  you  must  allow  me  to  introduce  the  sister  of  my  doc- 
tor to  you.    Madame  Zara  Gasimir — ]\Irs.  Everard." 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS,  163 

Zara,  who  had  moved  aside  a  little  way  out  of  delicacy,  to 
avoid  intruding  on  our  meeting,  now  turned,  and  with  her 
own  radiant  smile  and  exquisite  grace,  stretched  out  her  little 
well-gloved  hand. 

"I  am  dehghted  to  know  you!"  she  said,  in  those  sweet  pen- 
etrating accents  of  hers,  which  were  like  music.  "Your 
friend,"  here  indicating  me  by  a  slight  yet  tender  gesture, 
"has  also  become  mine;  but  I  do  not  think  we  shall  be  jealous, 
shall  we?" 

Mrs.  Everard  made  some  attempt  at  a  suitable  reply,  but 
she  was  so  utterly  lost  in  admiration  of  Zara's  beauty,  that  her 
habitual  self-possession  almost  deserted  her.  Zara,  however, 
had  the  most  perfect  tact,  and  with  it  the  ability  of  making 
herself  at  home  anywhere,  and  we  were  soon  all  three  talking 
cheerfully  and  without  constraint.  When  the  Colonel  made 
his  appearance,  which  he  did  very  shortly,  he  too  was  "taken 
off  his  feet,"  as  the  saying  is,  by  Zara's  loveliness,  and  the  same 
effect  was  produced  on  the  Challoners,  who  soon  afterwards 
joined  us  in  a  body.  ]\Irs.  Challoner,  in  particular,  seemed  in- 
capable of  moving  her  eyes  from  the  contemplation  of  my  dar- 
ling's sweet  face,  and  I  glowed  with  pride  and  pleasure  as  I 
noted  how  greatly  she  was  admired.  ]\Iiss  Efhe  Challoner 
alone,  who  was,  by  a  certain  class  of  young  men,  considered 
"doocid  pretty,  with  go  in  her,"  opposed  her  stock  of  physical 
charms  to  those  of  Zara,  with  a  certain  air  of  feminine  oppo- 
sition; but  she  was  only  able  to  keep  this  barrier  up  for  a  little 
time.  Zara's  winning  power  of  attraction  was  too  much  for 
her,  and  she,  like  all  present,  fell  a  willing  captive  to  the  en- 
ticing gentleness,  the  intellectual  superiority,  and  the  sympa- 
thetic influence  exercised  by  the  evenly  balanced  temperament 
and  character  of  the  beautiful  woman  I  loved  so  well. 

After  some  desultory  and  pleasant  chat,  Zara,  in  the  name 
of  her  brother  and  herself,  invited  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Everard 
and  the  Challoner  family  to  dine  at  the  Hotel  ]\Iars  next  day 
— an  invitation  which  was  accepted  by  all  with  eagerness.  I 
perceived  at  once  that  every  one  of  them  was  anxious  to  know 
more  of  Zara  and  her  surroundings— :;a  curiosity  which  I 
could  not  very  well  condemn.  Mrs.  Everard  then  wanted  me 
to  remain  with  her  for  the  rest  of  the  afternoon;  but  an  in- 
stinctive feeling  came  upon  me,  that  soon  perhaps  I  should 
have  to  part  from  Heliobas  and  Zara,  and  all  the  wonders  and 
delights  of  their  household,  in  order  to  resume  my  own  work- 


164  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

ing  life — therefore  I  determined  I  would  drain  my  present 
cup  of  pleasure  to  the  last  drop.  So  I  refused  Amy's  request, 
pleading  as  an  excuse  that  I  was  still  under  my  doctor's  au- 
thority, and  could  not  indulge  in  such  an  excitement  as  an 
afternoon  in  her  society  without  his  permission.  Zara  bore 
me  out  in  this  assertion,  and  added  for  me  to  Mrs.  Everard: 

"Indeed,  I  think  it  will  be  better  for  her  to  remain  perfectly 
quiet  with  us  for  a  day  or  two  longer;  then  she  will  be  thor- 
oughly cured,  and  free  to  do  as  she  likes.'' 

"Well!"  said  Mrs.  Challoner;  "I  must  say  she  doesn't  look 
as  if  anything  were  the  matter  with  her.  In  fact,  I  never  saw 
two  more  happy,  healthy-looking  girls  than  you  both.  What 
secret  do  you  possess  to  make  yourselves  look  so  bright?" 

"'No  secret  at  all,"  replied  Zara,  laughing;  "we  simply  fol- 
low the  exact  laws  of  health,  and  they  suffice." 

Colonel  Everard,  who  had  been  examining  me  critically  and 
asking  me  a  few  questions,  here  turned  to  Zara  and  said: 

"Do  you  really  mean  to  say,  Madame  Casimir,  that  your 
brother  cured  this  girl  by  electricity  ?" 

"Purely  so!"  she  answered  earnestly. 

"Then  it's  the  most  wonderful  recovery  I  ever  saw.  Why, 
at  Cannes,  she  was  hollow-eyed,  pale,  and  thin  as  a  willow- 
wand;  now  she  looks — well,  she  knows  how  she  is  herself — 
but  if  she  feels  as  spry  as  she  looks,  she's  in  first-rate  training!" 

I  laughed. 

"I  do  feel  spry,  Colonel,"  I  said.  "Life  seems  to  me  like 
summer  sunshine." 

"Ih'ava!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Challoner.  He  was  a  staid,  rather 
slow  Kentuckian  who  seldom  spoke;  and  when  he  did,  seemed 
to  find  it  rather  an  exertion.  "If  there's  one  class  of  folk  I  de- 
test more  than  another,  it  is  those  all-possessed  people  who 
find  life  unsuited  to  their  fancies.  Nobody  asked  them  to 
come  into  it — nobody  would  miss  them  if  they  went  out  of  it. 
Being  in  it,  it's  barely  civil  to  grumble  at  the  Deity  who  sent 
them  along  here.    I  never  do  it  myself  if  I  can  help  it." 

We  laughed,  and  Mrs.  Challoner's  eyes  twinkled. 

"In  England,  dear,  for  instance,"  she  said,  with  a  mischiev- 
ous glance  at  her  spouse — "in  England  you  never  grumbled, 
did  you?" 

Mr.  Challoner  looked  volumes — ^his  visage  reddened,  and 
he  clenched  his  broad  fist  with  ominous  vigor, 

"Why,  by  the  Lord!"  he  said,  with  even  more  than  bis  usual 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS.  165 

deliberate  utterance,  "in  England  the  liveliest  flea  that  ever 
gave  a  triumphal  jump  in  air  would  find  his  spirits  inclined  to 
droop!  I  tell  you,  ma'am,"  he  continued,  addressing  himself 
to  Zara,  whose  merry  laugh  rang  out  like  a  peal  of  little  golden 
bells  at  this  last  remark — "I  tell  you  that  when  I  walked  in 
the  streets  of  London  I  used  to  feel  as  if  I  were  one  of  a  band 
of  criminals.  Every  person  I  met  looked  at  me  as  if  the  uni- 
verse were  about  to  be  destroyed  next  minute,  and  they  had 
to  build  another  up  right  away  without  God  to  help  'em!" 

"Well,  I  believe  I  agree  with  you,"  said  Colonel  Everard. 
"The  English  take  life  too  seriously.  In  their  craze  for  busi- 
ness they  manage  to  do  away  with  pleasure  altogether.  They 
seem  afraid  to  laugh,  and  they  even  approach  the  semblance  of 
a  smile  with  due  caution." 

"I'm  free  to  confess,"  added  his  wife,  "that  I'm  not  easily 
chilled  through.  But  an  English  'at  home'  acts  upon  me  like 
a  patent  refrigerator — I  get  regularly  frozen  to  the  bone!" 

"Dear  me!"  laughed  Zara;  "you  give  very  bad  accounts  of 
Shakespeare's  land!    It  must  be  very  sad!" 

"I  believe  it  wasn't  always  so,"  pursued  Colonel  Everard; 
"there  are  legends  which  speak  of  it  as  Merrie  England.  I 
dare  say  it  might  have  been  merry  once,  before  it  was  gov- 
erned by  shopkeepers;  but  now  you  must  get  away  from 
it  if  you  want  to  enjoy  life.  At  least  such  is  my  opinion. 
But  have  you  never  been  in  England,  Madame  Casimir?  You 
speak  English  perfectly." 

"Oh,  I  am  a  fairly  good  linguist,"  replied  Zara,  "thanks  to 
my  brother.    But  I  have  never  crossed  the  Channel." 

The  Misses  Challoner  looked  politely  surprised;  their  fath- 
er's shrewd  face  wore  an  expression  of  grim  contentment. 

"Don't  cross  it,  ma'am,"  he  said  emphatically,  "unless  you 
have  a  special  desire  to  be  miserable.  If  you  want  to  know 
how  Christians  love  one  another  and  how  to  be  made  limply 
and  uselessly  wretched,  spend  a  Sunday  in  London." 

"I  think  I  will  not  try  the  experiment,  ]Mr.  Challoner,"  re- 
turned Zara  gaily.    "Life  is  short,  and  I  prefer  to  enjoy  it." 

"Say,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Challoner,  turning  to  me  at  this 
juncture,  "now  you  are  feeling  so  well,  would  it  be  asking  you 
too  much  to  play  us  a  piece  of  your  own  improvising?" 

I  glanced  at  the  grand  piano,  which  occupied  a  corner  of 
the  salon  where  we  sat,  and  hesitated.  But  at  a  slight  nod 
from  Zara,  I  rose,  drew  off  my  gloves,  and  seated  myself  at  the 


166  A    ROMANCE    OF    'TWO    WORLDS. 

instrument.  Passing  my  hands  lightly  over  the  keys,  I  wan- 
dered through  a  few  running  passages;  and  as  I  did  so,  mur- 
mured a  brief  petition  to  my  aerial  friend  Aeon.  Scarcely 
had  I  done  this,  when  a  flood  of  music  seemed  to  rush  to  my 
brain  and  thence  to  my  fingers,  and  I  played,  hardly  knowing 
what  I  played,  but  merely  absorbed  in  trying  to  give  utterance 
to  the  sounds  which  were  falling  softly  upon  my  inner  sense 
of  hearing  like  drops  of  summer  rain  on  a  thirsty  soil.  I  was 
just  aware  that  I  was  threading  the  labyrinth  of  a  minor  key, 
and  that  the  result  was  a  network  of  delicate  and  tender  mel- 
ody reminding  me  of  Heinrich  Heine's  words : 

"Lady,  did  you  not  hear  the  nightingale  sing?  A  beautiful 
silken  voice — a  web  of  happy  notes — and  my  soul  Avas  taken 
in  its  meshes,  and  strangled  and  tortured  thereby." 
'-  A  few  minutes,  and  the  inner  voice  that  conversed  with  me 
so  sweetly,  died  away  into  silence,  and  at  the  same  time  my 
fingers  found  their  way  to  the  closing  chord.  As  one  awaken- 
ing from  a  dream,  I  looked  up.  The  little  group  of  friendly 
listeners  were  rapt  in  the  deepest  attention;  and  when  I  ceased 
a  murmur  of  admiration  broke  from  them  all,  while  Zara's 
eyes  glistened  with  sympathetic  tears. 

"How  can  you  do  it  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Challoner  in  good-natured 
amazement.  "It  seems  to  me  impossible  to  compose  like  that 
while  seated  at  the  piano,  and  without  taking  previous 
thought!" 

"It  is  not  my  doing,"  I  began;  "it  seems  to  come  to  me 
from r-" 

But  I  was  checked  by  a  look  from  Zara,  that  gently  warned 
me  not  to  hastily  betray  the  secret  of  my  spiritual  communion 
with  the  unseen  sources  of  harmony.  So  I  smiled  and  said  no 
more.  Inwardly  I  was  full  of  a  great  rejoicing,  for  I  knew 
that  however  weJl  I  had  played  in  past  days,  it  was  nothing 
compared  to  the  vigor  and  ease  which  were  now  given  to  me — 
a  sort  of  unlocking  of  the  storehouse  of  music,  with  freedom 
to  take  my  choice  of  all  its  vast  treasures. 

"Well,  it's  what  we  call  inspiration,"  said  Mr.  Challoner, 
giving  my  hand  a  friendly  grasp;  "and  wherever  it  comes 
from,  it  must  be  a  great  happiness  to  yourself  as  well  as  to 
others." 

"It  is,"  I  answered  earnestly.  "I  believe  few  are  so  perfectly 
happy  in  music  as  I  am." 

Mrs.  Everard  looked  thouffhtful. 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  1C7 

"No  amount  of  practice  could  make  me  play  like  that/'  she 
said;  "yet  I  have  had  two  or  three  masters  who  were  supposed 
to  he  first  rate.  One  of  them  was  a  German,  who  used  to 
clutch  his  hair  like  a  walking  tragedian  whenever  I  played  a 
wrong  note.  I  helieve  he  got  up  his  reputation  entirely  hy 
tliat  clutch,  for  he  often  played  wrong  notes  himself  without 
minding  it.  But  just  heeause  he  worked  himself  into  a  sort  of 
frenzy  when  others  went  wrong,  everyhody  praised  him,  and 
said  he  had  such  an  ear  and  was  so  sensitive  that  he  must  he  a 
great  musician.  He  worried  me  nearly  to  death  over  Bach's 
'Well-tempered  Klavier — all  to  no  purpose,  for  I  can't  play 
a  note  of  it  now,  and  shouldn't  care  to  if  I  could.  I  consider 
Bach  a  dreadful  old  hore,  though  I  know  it  is  heresy  to  say  so. 
Even  Beethoven  is  occasionally  prosy,  only  no  one  will  be 
courageous  enough  to  admit  it.  People  would  rather  go  to 
sleep  over  classical  music  than  confess  the}'  don't  like  it." 

"Schubert  would  have  been  a  grander  master  than  Bee- 
thoven, if  he  had  only  lived  long  enough,"  said  Zara;  "but  I 
dare  say  very  few  will  agree  with  me  in  such  an  assertion.  Un- 
fortunately most  of  my  opinions  difl'er  from  those  of  everyone 
else." 

"You  should  say  fortunately,  madame,"  said  Colonel  Ever- 
ard,  bowing  gallantly;  "as  the  circumstance  has  the  happy 
result  of  making  you  perfectly  original  as  well  as  perfectly 
charming." 

Zara  received  this  compliment  with  her  usual  sweet  equa- 
nimity, and  we  rose  to  take  our  leave.  xVs  we  were  passing 
out,  Amy  Everard  drew  me  hack  and  crammed  into  the  pocket 
of  my  cloak  a  newspaper. 

"Eead  it  when  j'ou  are  alone,"  she  whispered;  "and  3'ou  will 
see  what  Raffaello  Cellini  has  done  with  the  sketch  he  made 
of  you." 

We  parted  from  these  pleasant  Americans  with  cordial  ex- 
])ressions  of  goodwill,  Zara  reminding  them  of  their  engage- 
ment to  visit  her  at  her  own  home  next  day,  and  fixing  the 
(! inner-hour  for  half-past  seven. 

On  our  return  to  the  Hotel  Mars,  we  found  Heliobas  in  the 
drawing-room,  deep  in  converse  with  a  Catholic  priest — a  fine- 
looking  man  of  venerable  and  noble  features.  Zara  addressed 
him  as  "Father  Paid,"  and  bent  humbly  before  him  to  receive 
his  blessing,  which  he  gave  her  with  almost  parental  tender- 


168  ^  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

ness.  He  seemed,  from  his  familiar  manner  with  them,  to  be 
a  very  old  friend  of  the  family. 

On  my  being  introduced  to  him,  he  greeted  me  with  gentle 
courtesy,  and  gave  me  also  his  simple  unaffected  benediction. 
We  all  jDartook  of  a  light  luncheon  together,  after  which  repast 
Heliobas  and  Father  Paul  withdrew  together.  Zara  looked 
after  their  retreating  figures  with  a  sort  of  meditative  pathos 
in  her  large  eyes;  and  then  she  told  me  she  had  something 
to  finish  in  her  studio — would  I  excuse  her  for  about  an  hour? 
I  readily  consented,  for  I  myself  was  desirous  of  passing  a 
little  time  in.  solitude,  in  order  to  read  the  manuscripts  Helio- 
bas had  given  me.  "For,"  thought  I,  "if  there  is  anything  in 
them  not  quite  clear  to  me,  he  will  explain  it,  and  I  had  better 
take  advantage  of  his  instruction  while  I  can." 

As  Zara  and  I  went  upstairs  together,  we  were  follov/ed  by 
Leo — a  most  unusual  circumstance,  as  that  faithful  animal 
was  generally  in  attendance  on  his  master.  Now,  however,  he 
seemed  to  have  something  oppressive  on  his  mind,  for  he  kept 
close  to  Zara,  and  his  big  brown  eyes,  whenever  he  raised  them 
to  her  face,  were  full  of  intense  melancholy.  His  tail  drooped 
in  a  forlorn  way,  and  all  the  vivacity  of  his  nature  seemed  to 
have  gone  out  of  him. 

"Leo  does  not  seem  well,"  I  said,  patting  the  dog's  beautiful 
silky  coat,  an  attention  to  which  he  responded  by  a  heavy  sigh 
and  a  wistful  gaze  approaching  to  tears.    Zara  looked  at  him. 

"Poor  Leo!"  she  murmured  caressingly.  "Perhaps  he  feels 
lonely.  Do  you  want  to  come  with  your  mistress  to-day,  old 
boy?    So  you  shall.    Come  along — cheer  up,  Leo!" 

And,  nodding  to  me,  she  passed  into  her  studio,  the  dog  fol- 
lowing her.  I  turned  into  my  own  apartment,  and  then  be- 
thought myself  of  the  newspaper  Mrs.  Evcrard  had  thrust  into 
my  pocket.  It  was  a  Roman  journal,  and  the  passage  marked 
for  my  perusal  ran  as  follows: 

"The  picture  of  the  Improvisatrice,  painted  by  our  country- 
man Signer  Eall'aello  Cellini,  has  been  purchased  by  Prince 
N for  the  sum  of  forty  thousand  francs.  The  Prince  gen- 
erously permits  it  to  remain  on  view  for  a  few  days  longer,  so 
that  those  who  have  not  yet  enjoyed  its  attraction,  have  still 
time  to  behold  one  of  the  most  wonderful  pictures  of  the  age. 
The  coloring  yet  remains  a  marvel  to  both  students  and  con- 
noisseurs, and  the  life-like  appearance  of  the  girl's  figure,  robed 
in  its  clinging  white  draperies  ornamented  with  lilies  of  the 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  169 

valley,  is  so  strong,  that  one  imagines  slic  will  step  out  o£  the 
canvas  and  confront  the  bystanders.  Signor  Cellini  must  now 
be  undoubtedly  acknowledged  as  one  of  the  greatest  geniuses 
of  modern  times." 

I  could  see  no  reason,  as  I  perused  this,  to  be  sure  that  I  had 
served  as  the  model  for  this  successful  work  of  art,  unless  the 
white  dress  and  the  lilies  of  the  valley,  which  I  had  certainly 
worn  at  Cannes,  were  sufficient  authority  for  forming  sucli  a 
conclusion.  Still  I  felt  quite  a  curiosity  about  the  picture — 
the  more  so  as  I  could  foresee  no  possible  chance  of  my  ever 
beholding  it.  I  certainly  should  not  go  to  Eome  on  purpose, 
and  in  a  few  days  it  would  be  in  the  possession  of  Prince  N— — , 
a  personage  whom  in  all  probability  I  should  never  know.  I 
put  the  newspaper  carefully  by,  and  then  turned  my  mind  to 
the  consideration  of  quite  another  subject — namely,  the  con- 
tents of  my  parchment  documents.  The  first  one  I  opened 
was  that  containing  the  private  instructions  of  Heliobas  to 
myself  for  the  preservation  of  my  own  health,  and  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  electric  force  within  me.  These  were  so  exceed- 
ingly simple,  and  yet  so  wonderful  in  their  simplicity,  that  I 
was  surprised.  They  were  based  upon  the  plainest  and  most 
reasonable  common-sense  arguments — easy  enough  for  a  child 
to  understand.  Having  promised  never  to  make  them  public, 
it  is  impossible  for  me  to  give  the  slightest  hint  of  their  pur- 
port; but  I  may  say  at  once,  without  trespassing  the  bounds  of 
my  pledged  word,  that  if  these  few  concise  instructions  were 
known  and  practiced  by  everyone,  doctors  would  be  entirely 
thrown  out  of  emplojmient,  and  chemists'  shops  would  no 
longer  cumber  the  streets.  Illness  would  be  very  difficult  of 
attainment — though  in  the  event  of  its  occurring  each  in- 
dividual would  know  how  to  treat  him  or  herself — and  life 
could  be  prolonged  easily  and  comfortably  to  more  than  a 
hundred  years,  barring,  of  course,  accidents  by  sea,"  rail  and 
road,  or  by  deeds  of  violence.  But  it  will  take  many  genera- 
tions before  the  world  is  universally  self-restrained  enough  to 
follow  such  plain  maxims  as  those  laid  down  for  me  in  the 
writing  of  my  benefactor,  Heliobas — even  if  it  be  ever  self- 
restrained  at  all,  which,  judging  from  the  present  state  of  so- 
ciety, is  much  to  be  doubted.  Therefore,  no  more  of  the  sub- 
ject, on  which,  indeed,  I  am  forbidden  to  speak. 

The  other  document,  called  "The  Electric  Principle  of 
Christianity,"  I  found  so  curious  and  original,  suggesting  so 


170  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 


many  new  theories  concerning  that  religion  whieli  has  civil- 
ized a  great  portion  of  humanity,  that,  as  I  am  not  restrained 
by  any  promise  on  this  point,  I  have  resolved  to  give  it  here 
in  full.  My  readers  must  not  be  rash  enough  to  jump  to  tlici 
conclusion  that  I  set  it  forward  as  an  explanation  or  confession 
of  my  own  faith;  my  creed  has  nothing  to  do  with  anyone 
save  mj'self .  I  'simply  copy  the  manuscript  I  possess,  as  the 
theory  of  a  deeply  read  and  widely  intelligent  man,  such  as 
Heliobas  undoubtedly  Avas  and  is;  a  man,  too,  in  whose  veins 
runs  the  blood  of  the  Chaldean  kings — earnest  and  thoughtful 
Orientals,  who  were  far  wiser  in  their  generation  perhaps  than 
we,  with  all  our  boasted  progress,  are  in  ours.  The  coincidences 
which  have  to  do  with  electrical  science  will,  I  believe,  be 
generally  admitted  to  be  curious  if  not  convincing.  To  me, 
of  course,  they  are  only  fresh  proofs  of  what  I  know,  because 
I  have  seen  the  great  Electric  Circle,  and  know  its  power 
(guided  as  it  is  by  the  Central  Intelligence  within)  to  be 
capable  of  anything,  from  the  sending  down  of  a  minute  sparlc 
of  instinct  into  the  heart  of  a  flower,  to  the  perpetual  manufac- 
ture and  re-absorption  of  solar  systems  by  the  million  million. 
And  it  is  a  circle  that  ever  widens  without  end.  What  more 
glorious  manifestation  can  there  be  of  the  Creator's  splendor 
and  wisdom!  But  as  to  how  this  world  of  ours  span  round  in 
its  own  light  littleness  farther  and  farther  from  the  Radiant 
Ring,  till  its  very  Sun  began  to  be  re-absorbed,  and  till  its 
Moon'  disappearecl  and  became  a  mere  picture — till  it  became 
of  itself  like  a  small  blot  on  the  fair  scroll  of  the  Universe, 
while  its  inhabitants  grew  to  resent  all  heavenly  attraction; 
and  how  it  was  yet  thought  worth  God's  patience  and  tender 
consideration,  just  for  the  sake  of  a  few  human  souls  upon  it 
who  still  remembered  and  loved  Him,  to  give  it  one  more 
chance  before  it  should  be  drav^-n  back  into  the  Central  Circle 
like  a  spark  within  a  fire — all  this  is  sufficiently  set  forth  in  the 
words  of  Heliobas,  quoted  in  the  next  chapter. 


k 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS.  1?! 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  ELECTRIC  CREED. 

The  "Electric  Principle  of  Christianity"  opened  as  follows: 

"From  all  Eternity  God,  or  the  Supreme  Spirit  of  Light, 
existed,  and  to  all  Eternity  He  will  continue  to  exist.  This 
is  plainly  stated  in  the  Few  Testament  thus:  'God  is  a  Spirit, 
and  they  that  worship  Him  must  worship  Him  in  spirit  and  in 
truth.' 

"He  is  a  Shape  of  pure  Electric  Radiance.  Those  who  may 
be  inclined  to  doubt  this  may  search  the  Scriptures  on  which 
they  pin  their  faith,  and  they  will  find  that  all  the  visions  and 
appearances  of  the  Deity  there  chronicled  were  electric  in  char- 
acter. 

"As  a  poet  forms  poems,  or  a  musician  melodies,  so  God 
formed  by  a  Thought  the  Vast  Central  Sphere  in  which  He 
dwells,  and  peopled  it  with  the  pure  creations  of  His  glorious 
fancy.  And  wdiy?  Because,  being  pure  Light,  He  is  also  pure 
Love;  the  power  or  capacity  of  Love  implies  the  necessity  of 
Loving;  the  necessity  of  loving  points  to  the  existence  of 
things  to  be  loved — hence  the  secret  of  creation.  From  the 
ever-working  Intelligence  of  this  Divine  Love  proceeded  the 
Electric  Circle  of  the  Universe,  from  whence  are  born  all 
worlds. 

"This  truth  vaguely  dawned  upon  the  ancient  poets  of 
Scripture  when  they  wrote:  'Darkness  was  upon  the  face 
of  the  deep.  iVnd  the  Spirit  of  God  moved  upon  the  face  of 
the  waters.  And  God  said.  Let  there  be  light.  And  there  was 
light.' 

"These  words  apply  solely  to  the  creation  or  production  of 
our  own  Earth,  and  in  them  we  read  nothing  but  a  simple 
manifestation  of  electricity,  consisting  in  a  licating  passage 
of  rays  from  the  Central  Circle  to  the  planet  newly  propelled 
forth  from  it,  which  caused  that  planet  to  produce  and  multi- 
ply the"  wonders  of  the  animal,  vegetable,  and  mineral  Idng- 
doms  which  we  call  Nature. 

"Let  us  now  turn  again  to  the  poet-prophets  of  Scripture: 
'And  God  said,  Let  us  make  man  in  our  image.'     The  word 


1?2  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

'our'  here  implies  an  instinctive  idea  that  God  was  never  alone. 
This  idea  is  correct.  Love  cannot  exist  in  a  chaos;  and  God 
hy  the  sheer  necessity  of  His  Being  has  forever  been  snr^ 
rounded  by  radiant  and  immortal  Spirits  emanating  from  His 
own  creative  glory — beings  in  whom  all  beauty  and  all  purity 
are  found.  In  the  images,  therefore  (only  the  images),  of 
these  Children  of  Light  and  of  Himself,  He  made  Man — that 
is,  He  caused  the  Earth  to  be  inhabited  and  dominated  by 
beings  composed  of  Earth's  component  parts,  animal,  vege- 
table, and  mineral,  giving  them  their  superiority  by  placing 
within  them  His  'likeness'  in  the  form  of  an  electric  flame  or 
germ  of  spiritual  existence  combined  with  its  companion  work- 
ing-force of  Will-power. 

"Like  all  flames,  this  electric  spark  can  either  be  fanned 
into  a  fire  or  it  can  be  allowed  to  escape  in  air — it  can  never 
be  destroyed.  It  can  be  fostered  and  educated  till  it  becomes 
a  living  Spiritual  Form  of  absolute  beauty — an  immortal  crea- 
ture of  thought,  memory,  emotion,  and  working  intelligence. 
If,  on  the  contrary,  he  is  neglected  or  forgotten,  and  its  com- 
panion Will  is  drawn  by  the  weight  of  Earth  to  work  for 
earthly  aims  alone,  then  it  escapes  and  seeks  other  chances 
of  development  in  other  forms  on  other  planets,  while  the 
body  it  leaves,  supported  only  by  physical  sustenance  drawn 
from  the  Earth  on  Avhich  it  dwells,  becomes  a  mere  lump  of 
clay  animated  by  mere  animal  life  solely,  full  of  inward  ignor- 
ance and  corruption  and  outward  incapacity.  Of  such  ma- 
terial are  the  majority  of  men  composed  by  their  own  free- 
will and  choice,  because  they  habitually  deaden  the  voice  of 
conscience  and  refuse  to  believe  in  the  existence  of  a  spiritual 
element  within  and  around  them. 

"To  resume:  the  Earth  is  one  of  the  smallest  of  planets; 
and  not  only  this,  but,  from  its  position  in  the  Universe,  re- 
ceives a  less  amount  of  direct  infhicnce  from  the  Electric  Cir- 
cle than  other  worlds  more  happily  situated.  Were  men  wise 
enough  to  accept  this  fact,  they  would  foster  to  the  utmost 
the  germs  of  electric  sym])athy  within  themselves,  in  order  to 
form  a  direct  communication,  or  system  of  attraction,  between 
this  planet  and  the  ever-widening  Ring,  so  that  some  spiritual 
benefit  might  accrue  to  them  thereby.  But  as  the  ages  roll 
on,  their  chances  of  doing  this  diminish.  The  time  is  swiftly 
approaching  when  the  invincible  Law  of  Absorption  shall  ex- 
tinguish Earth  as  easily  as  we  blow  out  the  flame  of  a  candle. 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  173 

True,  it  may  be  again  reproduced,  and  again  thrown  out  on 
space;  but  then  it  will  be  in  a  new  and  grander  form,  and  will 
doubtless  have  more  godlike  inhabitants. 

"In  the  meantime — during  those  brief  cycles  of  centuries 
which  are  as  a  breath  in  the  workings  of  the  Infinite,  and 
which  must  yet  elapse  before  this  world,  as  we  know  it,  comes 
to  an  end — God  has  taken  pity  on  the  few,  very  few  souls 
dwelling  here,  pent  up  in  mortal  clay,  who  have  blindly  tried 
to  reach  Him,  like  plants  straining  up  to  the  light,  and  has  es- 
tablished a  broad  stream  of  syiupathetic  electric  communica- 
tion with  Himself,  wliich  all  who  care  to  do  so  may  avail  them- 
selves of. 

"Here  it  may  be  asked:  Why  should  God  take  pity?  Be- 
cause that  Supreme  Shape  of  Light  finds  a  portion  of  Himself 
in  all  pure  souls  that  love  Him,  and  He  cannot  despise  Him- 
self. Also  because  He  is  capable  of  all  the  highest  emotions 
known  to  man,  ip  a  far  larger  and  grander  degree,  besides 
possessing  other  sentiments  and  desires  unimaginable  to  the 
human  mind.  It  is  enough  to  say  that  all  the  attributes  that 
accompany  perfect  goodness  He  enjoys;  therefore  He  can  feel 
compassion,  tenderness,  forgiveness,  patience — all  or  any  of 
the  emotions  that  produce  pure,  unselfish  pleasure. 

"Granting  Him,  therefore,  these  attributes  (and  it  is  both 
blasphemous  and  unreasonable  to  deny  Him  those  virtues 
which  distinguish  the  best  of  men),  it  is  easily  understood  how 
He,  the  All-Fair  Beneficent  Ruler  of  the  Central  Sphere,  per- 
ceiving the  long  distance  to  which  the  Earth  was  propelled, 
like  a  ball  flung  too  far  out,  from  the  glory  of  His  Electric 
Ring,  saw  also  that  the  creatures  He  had  made  in  His  image 
were  in  danger  of  crushing  that  image  completely  out,  and 
with  it  all  remembrance  of  Him,  in  the  fatal  attention  they 
gave  to  their  merely  earthly  svirroundings,  lacking,  as  they  did, 
and  not  possessing  sufficient  energy  to  seek,  electric  attraction. 
In  brief,  this  Earth  and  God's  World  were  like  America  and 
Europe  before  the  Atlantic  Cable  was  laid.  Now  the  mes- 
sages of  goodwill  flash  imder  the  waves,  heedless  of  the  storms. 
So  also  God's  Cable  is  laid  between  us  and  His  Heaven  in  the 
person  of  Christ. 

"For  ages  (always  remembering  that  our  ages  are  with  God 
a  moment)  the  idea  of  worship  was  in  the  mind  of  man.  With 
this  idea  came  also  the  sentiment  of  propitiation.  The  un- 
tamed savage  has  from  time  immemorial  instinctively  felt  the 


174  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

necessity  of  looking  np  to  a  Being  greater  than  Himself,  and 
also  of  seeking  a  reconciliation  with  that  Being  for  some  fault 
or  loss  in  himself  which  he  is  aware  of,  yet  cannot  explain. 
This,  double  instinct — worship  and  propitiation — is  the  ke^'- 
note  of  all  the  creeds  of  the  world,  and  may  be  called  God's 
first  thought  of  the  cable  to  be  hereafter  laid — a  lightning- 
thought  which  He  instilled  into  the  human  race  to  prepare 
it,  as  one  might  test  a  telegraph-wire  from  house  to  house,  be- 
fore stretching  it  across  a  continent. 

"All  religions,  as  known  to  us,  are  mere  types  of  Chris- 
tianity. It  is  a  notable  fact  that  some  of  the  oldest  and  most 
learned  races  in  the  world,  such  as  the  Armenians  and  Chal- 
deans, were  the  first  to  be  convinced  of  the  truth  of  Christ's 
visitation.  Buddhism,  of  which  there  are  so  many  million  fol- 
lowers, is  itself  a  type  of  Christ's  teaching;  only  it  lacks  the 
supernatural  element.  Buddha  died  a  hermit  at  the  age  of 
eighty,  as  any  wise  and  ascetic  man  might  do  to-day.  The 
death  and  resurrection  of  Christ  were  widely  different.  Any- 
one can  be  a  Buddha  again;  anyone  can  not  l3e  a  Christ.  That 
there  are  stated  to  be  more  followers  of  Buddhism  than  of 
Christianity  is  no  proof  of  any  efficacy  in  the  former  or  lack 
of  power  in  the  latter.  Buddhifsts  help  to  sv^•ell  that  very  large 
class  of  persons  who  prefer  a  flattering  picture  to  a  plain  orig- 
inal; or  who,  sheep-like  by  nature,  finding  themselves  all  to- 
gether in  one  meadow,  are  too  lazy,  as  well  as  too  indifferent, 
to  seek  pastures  fresher  and  fairer. 

"Through  the  divine  influence  of  an  Electric  Thought,  then, 
the  world  unconsciously  grew  to  expect  something — they 
knew  not  what.  The  old  creeds  of  the  world,  like  sunflowers, 
turned  towards  that  unknown  Sun;  the  poets,  prophets,  seers, 
all  spoke  of  some  approaching  consolation  and  glory;  and  to 
this  day  the  fated  Jews  expect  it,  unwilling  to  receive  as  their 
Messiah  the  Divine  Martyr  they  slew,  thougli  their  own  Scrip- 
tures testify  to  His  identity. 

"Christ  came,  born  of  a  Virgin;  that  is,  a  radiant  angel 
from  God's  Sphere  was  in  the  first  place  sent  down  to  Earth 
to  wear  the  form  of  Mary  of  Betlilehem,  in  Judea.  Within 
that  vessel  of  absolute  -purity  God  placed  an  Emanation  of 
His  own  radiance — no  germ  or  small  flame  such  as  is  given  to 
us  in  our  bodies  to  cultivate  and  foster,  but  a  complete  im- 
mortal Spirit,  a  portion  of  Cod  Himself,  wise,  sinless,  and 
strong.     This  Spirit,  jient  up  in  clay,  was  born  as  a  helpless 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  175 

babe,  grew  up  as  man — as  man  taught,  comforted,  was  slain 
and  buried;  but  as  pure  Spirit  rose  again  and  returned  in 
peace  to  Heaven,  His  mission  done. 

"It  was  necessary,  in  order  to  establish  what  has  been  called 
an  electric  communication  between  God's  Sphere  and  this 
P^arth,  that  an  actual  immortal,  untainted  Spirit  in  the  person 
of  Christ  should  walk  this  world,  sharing  with  men  sufferings, 
difliculties,  danger,  and  death.  Why?  In  order  that  we  might 
first  completely  confide  in  and  trust  Him,  afterwards  realizing 
His  spiritual  strength  and  glory  by  His  resurrection.  And 
here  may  be  noted  the  main  dili'erence  between  the  Electric 
Theory  of  Christianity  and  other  theories.  Christ  did  not  die 
because  God  needed  a  sacrifice.  The  idea  of  sacrifice  is  a 
relic  of  heathen  barbarism;  God  is  too  infinitely  loving  to  de- 
sire the  sacrifice  of  the  smallest  flower.  He  is  too  patient  to 
be  ever-wrathful;  and  barbaric  ignorance  confronts  us  again 
in  the  notion  that  He  should  need  ;to  be  appeased.  And  the 
fancy  that  He  should  desire  Himself  or  part  of  Himself  to  be- 
come a  sacrifice  to  Himself  has  arisen  out  of  the  absurd  and 
conflicting  opinions  of  erring  humanity,  wherein  right  and 
wrong  are  so  jumbled  together  that  it  is  difficult  to  distin- 
guish one  from  the  other.  Christ's  death  was  not  a  sacrifice; 
it  was  simply  a  means  of  confidence  and  communion  with  the 
Creator.  A  sinless  Spirit  suffered  to  show  us  how  to  suffer; 
lived  on  earth  to  show  us  how  to  live;  prayed  to  show  us  how 
to  pray;  died  to  show  us  how  to  die;  rose  again  to  impress 
strongly  upon  us  that  there  was  in  truth  a  life  beyond  this 
one,  for  which  He  strove  to  prepare  our  souls.  Finally,  by 
His  re-ascension  into  Heaven  He  established  that  much- 
needed  electric  communication  between  us  and  the  Central 
Spliere. 

"It  can  be  proved  from  the  statements  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment that  in  Christ  was  an  Embodied  Electric  Spirit.  From 
first  to  last  His  career  was  attended  by  electric  phenomena,  of 
which  eight  examples  are  here  quoted;  and  earnest  students 
of  the  matter  can  find  many  others  if  they  choose  to  examine 
for  themselves. 

"1.  The  appearance  of  the  Star  and  the  Vision  of  Angels 
on  tlie  night  of  His  birth.  The  Clialdeans  saw  His  'star  in  the 
east,'  and  they  came  to  worship  Him.  The  Clialdeans  were 
always  a  learned  people,  and  electricity  was  an  advanced 
science  with  them.     They  at  once  recognized  the  star  to  be 


176  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

no  new  pknet,  but  simply  a  star-shaped  flame  flitting  through 
space.  They  knew  what  this  meant.  Observe,  too,  that  they 
had  no  doubts  upon  the  point;  they  came  'to  worship  Him,' 
and  provided  themselves  with  gifts  to  offer  to  this  radiant 
Guest,  the  offspring  of  pure  Liglit.  The  vision  of  the  angels 
appearing  to  the  shepherds  was  simply  a  joyous  band  of  the 
Singing  Children  of  the  Electric  Eing,  who  out  of  pure  inter- 
est and  pleasure  floated  in  sight  of  Earth,  drawn  thither  partly 
by  the  already  strong  attractive  influence  of  the  Radiance  that 
was  imprisoned  there  in  the  form  of  the  Babe  of  Beth- 
lehem. 

"2.  When  Christ  was  baptized  by  John  the  Baptist,  'the 
heavens  opened.' 

"3.  The  sympathetic  influence  of  Christ  was  so  powerful 
that  when  He  selected  His  disciples.  He  had  but  to  speak  to 
them,  and  at  the  sound  of  His  voice,  though  they  were  en- 
gaged in  other  business,  'they  left  all  and  followed  Him.' 

"4.  Christ's  body  was  charged  with  electricity.  Thus  He 
was  easily  able  to  heal  sick  and  diseased  persons  by  a  touch 
or  a  look.  The  woman  who  caught  at  His  garment  in  the 
crowd  was  cured  of  her  long-standing  ailment;  and  we  see 
that  Christ  was  aware  of  His  own  electric  force  by  the  words 
He  used  on  that  occasion:  'Who  touched  Me?  For  I  feel 
that  some  virtue  is  gone  out  of  Me' — which  is  the  exact  feeling 
that  a  physical  electrician  experiences  at  this  day  after  em- 
ploying his  powers  on  a  subject.  The  raising  of  Jairus's 
daughter,  of  the  widow's  son  at  Nain,  and  of  Lazarus,  were  all 
accomplished  by  the  same  means. 

"5.  The  walking  on  the  sea  was  a  purely  electric  effort, 
and  can  be  accomplished  now  by  anyone  who  has  cultivated 
sufiicient  inner  force.  The  sea  being  full  of  electric  particles 
will  support  anybody  sufficiently  and  similarly  charged — the 
two  currents  combining  to  procure  the  necessary  equilibrium. 
Peter,  who  was  able  to  walk  a  little  way,  lost  his  power  di- 
rectly his  will  became  vanquished  by  fear — ^because  the  senti- 
ment of  fear  disperses  electricity,  and  being  purely  human 
emotion,  does  away  with  spiritual  strength  for  the  time. 

"6.  The  Death  of  Christ  was  attended  by  electric  manifes- 
tations— by  the  darkness  over  the  land  during  the  Crucifixion; 
the  tearing  of  the  temple  veil  in  twain;  and  the  earthquake 
which  finally  ensued. 

"7.  The  Resurrection  was  a  most  powerful  display  of  elec- 
tric force.    It  will  be  remembered  that  the  angel  who  was 


A   ROMANCE    OP    TWO    WORLDS.  177 

found  sitting  at  the  entrance  of  the  empty  sepulchre  ^had  a 
countenance  like  lightning/  i.  e.,  like  electric  ilame.  It  must 
also  he  called  to  mind  how  the  risen  Christ  addressed  Mary- 
Magdalene:  'Touch  me  not,  for  I  am  but  newly  risen!'  Why 
should  she  not  have  touched  Him?  Simply  because  His 
strength  then  was  the  strengtli  of  concentrated  in-rushing  cur- 
rents of  electricity;  and  to  touch  Him  at  that  moment  would 
have  been  for  Magdalene  instant  death  by  lightning.  This 
effect  of  embodied  electric  force  has  been  shadowed  forth  in 
the  Greek  legends  of  Apollo,  whose  glory  consumed  at  a  breath 
the  mortal  who  dared  to  look  upon  him. 

"8.  The  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  by  which  term  is  meant 
an  ever-flowing  current  of  the  inspired  working  Intelligence 
of  the  Creator,  was  purely  electric  in  character:  'Suddenly 
there  came  a  sound  from  fleaven  as  of  a  rushing  mighty  wind, 
and  it  filled  all  the  house  where  they  were  sitting.  And  there 
appeared  unto  them  cloven  tongues  like  as  of  fire,  and  Sat  upon 
each  of  them.'  It  may  here  be  noted  that  the  natural  electric 
flame  is  dual  or  'cloven'  in  shape. 

"Let  us  now  take  the  Creed  as  accepted  to-day  by  the  Chris- 
tian Church,  and  see  how  thoroughly  it  harmonizes  with  the 
discoveries  of  spiritual  electricity.  'I  believe  in  one  God  the 
Father  Almighty,  Maker  of  Heaven  and  Earth,  and  of  all 
things  visible  and  invisible.'  This  is  a  brief  and  simple  de- 
scription of  the  Creator  as  He  exists — a  Supreme  Centre  of 
Light,  out  of  whom  must  spring  all  life,  all  love,  all  wisdom. 

"  'And  in  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  only  begotten  Son  of 
God,  born  of  the  Father  before  all  ages.'  This  means  that  the 
only  absolute  Emanation  of  His  own  personal  Eadiance  that 
ever  wore  such  mean  garb  as  our  clay  was  found  in  Christ — • 
Avho,  as  part  of  God,  certainly  existed  'before  all  ages.'  For  as 
the  Creed  itself  says.  He  was  'God  of  God,  Light  of  Light.' 
Then  we  go  on  through  the  circumstances  of  Christ's  birth, 
life,  death,  and  resurrection,  and  our  profession  of  faith  brings 
us  to  'I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  and  Giver  of  Life, 
who.  proceedeth  from  the  Father  and  the  Son,'  etc.  Tliis,  as 
already  stated,  means  that  we  believe  that  since  Christ  as- 
cended into  Heaven,  our  electric  communication  with  the 
Creator  has  been  established,  and  an  ever-flowing  current  of 
divine  inspiration  is  turned  beneficially  in  the  direction  of 
our  Earth,  'proceeding  from  the  Father  and  the  Son.'  We 
admit  in  the  Creed  that  this  inspiration  manifested  itself  be- 

12 


178  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

fore  Christ  came  and  'spake  by  the  prophets;'  but,  as  before 
stated,  this  only  happened  at  rare  and  difficult  intervals,  while 
now  Christ  Himself  speaks  through  those  who  most  strongly 
adhere  to  His  teachings. 

"It  may  here  be  mentioned  that  few  seem  to  grasp  the  fact 
of  the  special  message  to  women  intended  to  be  conve3^ed  in 
the  person  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  She  was  actually  one  of  the 
radiant  Spirits  of  the  Central  Sphere,  imprisoned  by  God's 
will  in  woman's  form.  After  the  birth  of  Christ,  she  was  still 
kept  on  earth,  to  follovf  His  career  to  the  end.  There  was  a 
secret  understanding  between  Himself  and  her.  As  for  in- 
stance, when  she  found  Him  among  the  doctors  of  the  law, 
she  for  one  moment  suffered  her  humanity  to  get  the  better  of 
her  in  anxious  inquiries;  and  His  reply:  'Why  sought  ye  Me? 
Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  My  Father's  business?' 
was  a  sort  of  reminder  to  her,  which  she  at  once  accepted. 
Again,  at  the  marriage  feast  in  Cana  of  Galilee,  when  Christ 
turned  the  water  into  wine,  He  said  to  His  mother,  'Woman, 
what  have  I  to  do  with  thee?'  which  meant  simj)ly:  What 
have  I  to  do  with  thee  as  woman  merely? — which  was 
another  reminder  to  her  of  her  spiritual  origin,  causing  her 
at  once  to  address  the  servants  who  stood  by  as  follows: 
'Whatsoever  He  saith  unto  you,  do  it.'  And  why,  it  may 
be  asked,  if  Mary  was  really  an  imprisoned  immortal  Spirit, 
sinless  and  joyous,  should  she  be  forced  to  suffer  all  the 
weaknesses,  sorrows,  and  anxieties  of  any  ordinary  woman 
and  mother?  Simply  as  an  example  to  women  who  are  the 
mothers  of  the  human  race;  and  who,  being  thus  laid  under 
a  heavy  responsibility,  need  sympathetic  guidance.  Mary's 
life  teaches  women  that  the  virtues  they  need  are — obedience, 
purity,  meekness,  patience,  long-suffering,  modesty,  self-de- 
nial, and  endurance.  She  loved  to  hold  a  secondary  position; 
she  placed  herself  in  willing  subjection  to  Joseph — a  man  of 
austere  and  simple  life,  advanced  in  years,  and  weighted  with 
the  cares  of  a  family  by  a  previous  marriage — who  wedded 
her  by  an  influence  which  comjielled  him  to  become  her  pro- 
tector in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Out  of  these  facts,  simple 
as  they  are,  can  be  drawn  the  secret  of  happiness  for  women 
— a  secret  and  a  lesson  that,  if  learned  by  heart,  would  bring 
them  and  those  they  love  out  of  storm  and  bewilderment  into 
peace  and  safety. 

"For  those  who  have  once  become  aware  of  the  existence 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  179 

of  the  Central  Sphere  and  of  the  Electric  Eing  surrounding 
it,  and  who  are  able  to  realize  to  the  full  the  gigantic  as  well 
as  minute  work  performed  by  the  electric  waves  around  us 
and  within  us,  there  can  no  longer  be  any  doubt  as  to  all 
the  facts  of  Christianity,  as  none  of  them,  viewed  by  the  elec- 
tric theory,  are  otherwise  than  in  accordance  with  the  Crea- 
tor's love  and  sympathy  with  even  the  smallest  portion  of 
His  creation. 

"Why  then,  if  Christianity  be  a  Divine  Truth,  are  not  all 
people  Christians?  As  well  ask,  if  music  and  poetry  are 
good  things,  why  all  men  are  not  poets  and  musicians.  Art 
seeks  art;  in  like  manner  God  seeks  God — that  is,  He  seeks 
portions  of  His  own  essence  among  His  creatures.  Christ 
Himself  said,  'Many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen;'  and  it 
stands  to  reason  that  very  few  souls  will  succeed  in  becoming 
pure  enough  to  enter  the  Central  Sphere  without  hindrance. 
Many,  on  leaving  Earth,  will  be  detained  in  the  Purgatory 
of  Air,  where  thousands  of  spirits  work  for  ages,  watching 
over  others,  helping  and  warning  others,  and  in  this  unselfish 
labor  succeed  in  raising  themselves,  little  by  little,  higher  and 
ever  higher,  till  they  at  last  reach  the  longed-for  goal.  It 
must  also  be  remembered  that  not  only  from  Earth,  but  from 
all  worlds,  released  souls  seek  to  attain  final  happiness  in 
the  Central  Sphere  where  God  is;  so  that,  however  great  the 
number  of  those  that  are  permitted  to  proceed  thither  from 
this  little  planet,  they  can  only  form,  as  it  were,  one  drop 
in  a  mighty  ocean. 

"It  has  been  asked  whether  the  Electric  Theory  of  Chris- 
tianity includes  the  doctrine  of  Hell,  or  a  place  of  perpetual 
punishment.  Eternal  Punishment  is  merely  a  form  of  speech 
for  what  is  really  Eternal  lietrogression.  For  as  there  is  a 
Forward,  so  there  must  be  a  Backward.  The  electric  germ 
of  the  Soul — delicate,  fiery,  and  imperishable  as  it  is — can 
be  forced  by  its  companion  Will  to  take  refuge  in  a  lower 
form  of  material  existence,  dependent  on  the  body  it  first 
inhabits.  For  instance,  a  man  who  is  obstinate  in  pursuing 
active  evil  can  so  retrograde  the  progress  of  any  spiritual 
life  within  him,  that  it  shall  lack  the  pov/er  to  escape,  as  it 
might  do,  from  merely  lymphatic  and  listless  temperaments,  to 
seek  some  other  chance  of  development,  but  shall  sink  into 
the  form  of  quadrupeds,  birds,  and  other  creatures  'dominated 
by  purely  physical  needs.    But  there  is  one  thing  it  can  never 


180  AJ   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

escape  from — Memory.  And  in  that  faculty  is  constituted 
Hell.  So  that  if  a  man,  by  choice,  forces  his  soul  downward 
to  inhabit  hereafter  the  bodies  of  dogs,  horses,  and  other  like 
animals,  he  should  know  that  he  does  so  at  the  cost  of  every- 
thing except  Remembrance.  Eternal  Retrogression  means 
that  the  hopelessly  tainted  electric  germ  recoils  further  and 
further  from  the  Pure  Centre  whence  it  sprang,  always  bear- 
ing within  itself  the  knowledge  of  what  it  was  once  and  what 
it  might  have  been.  There  is  a  pathetic  meaning  in  the' eyes 
of  a  dog  or  a  seal;  in  the  melancholy,  patient  gaze  of  the  oxen 
toiling  at  the  plough;  there  is  an  unuttered  warning  in  the 
silent  faces  of  flowers;  there  is  more  tenderness  of  regret  in 
the  voice  of  the  nightingale  than  love;  and  in  the  wild  up- 
ward soaring  of  the  lark,  with  its  throat  full  of  passionate, 
shouting  prayer,  there  is  shadowed  forth  the  yearning  hope 
that  dies  away  in  despair  as  the  bird  sinks  to  earth  again, 
his  instincts  not  half  satisfied.  There  is  no  greater  torture 
than  to  be  compelled  to  remember,  in  suffering,  joys  and 
glorious  opportunities  gone  forever. 

"Regarding  the  Electric  Theory  of  Religion,  it  is  curious 
to  observe  how  the  truth  of  it  has  again  and  again  been  dimly 
shadowed  forth  in  the  prophecies  of  Art,  Science,  apd  Poesy. 
The  old  painters  who  depicted  a  halo  of  light  round  the  head 
of  their  Virgins  and  Saints  did  so  out  of  a  correct  impulse 
which  they  did  not  hesitate  to  obey.*  The  astronomers  who, 
after  years  of  profound  study,  have  been  enabled  to  measure 
the  flames  of  the  burning  sun,  and  to  find  out  that  these 
are  from  two  to  four  thousand  miles  high,  are  nearly  arrived 
at  the  conclusion  that  it  is  a  world  in  a  state  of  conflagration, 
in  which  they  will  be  perfectly  right.  Those  who  hold  that 
this  Earth  of  ours  was  once  self-luminous  are  also  right;  for 
it  was  indeed  so  when  first  projected  from  the  Electric  "Ring. 
The  compilers  or.  inventors  of  the  'Arabian  Nights'  also  hit 
upon  a  trnth  when  they  described  human  beings  as  forced 
through  evil  influences  to  take  the  forms  of  lower  animals — 
a  truth  just  explained  in  the  Law  of  Retrogression.  All  art, 
all  prophecy,  all  poesy,  should  therefore  be  accepted  eagerlj'- 
and  studied  earnestly,  for  in  them  we  find  electric  inspiration, 
out  of  which  we  are  able  to  di'aw  lessons  for  our  guidance 
hereafter.     The  great  point  that  scientists  and  artists  have 

*An  Impulse  which  led  them  vaguely  to  foresee,  though  not  to 
explaia,  the  electric  principle  of  spiritual  life, 


A   nOMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS.  l8l 

hitherto  failed  to  discover,  is  the  existence  of  the  Central 
Sphere  and  its  Siirronnding  Electric  Circle.  Once  realize 
these  two  great  facts,  and  all  the  wonders  and  mysteries  of  the 
Universe  are  perfectly  easy  of  comprehension. 

"In  conclnsion,  I  ofEer  no  opinion  as  to  which  is  Christ's 
Chnrch,  or  the  Fonntain-head  of  spirituality  in  the  world. 
In  all  Chnrches  errors  have  intruded  through  unworthy  and 
hypocritical  memhcrs.  In  a  croAvded  congregation  of  wor- 
shippers there  may  perhaps  be  only  one  or  two  who  are  free 
from  self-interest  and  personal  vanity.  In  Sectarianism,  for 
instance,  there  is  no  shred  of  Christianity.  Lovers  of  God 
and  folloAvers  of  Christ  must,  in  the  first  place,  have  perfect 
Unity;  and  the  bond  uniting  them  must  be  an  electric  one 
of  love  and  faith.  No  true  Christian  should  be  able  to  hate, 
despise,  or  envy  the  other.  Were  I  called  upon  to  select  among 
the  churches,  I  should  choose  that  which  has  most  electricity 
working  within  it,  and  which  is  able  to  believe  in  a  positive 
electrical  communication  between  Christ  and  herself  taking 
place  daily  on  her  altars — a  Church  which  holds,  as  it  were, 
the  other  end  of  the  telegraphic  ray  between  Earth  and  the 
Central  Sphere,  and  which  is,  therefore,  able  to  exist  among 
the  storms  of  modern  opinions,  affording  refuge  and  conso- 
lation to  the  few  determined  travellers  who  are  bound  onward 
and  upward.  I  shall  not  name  the  Church  I  mean,  because 
it  is  the  duty  of  everyone  to  examine  and  find  it  out  for  him- 
self or  herself.  And  even  though  this  Church  instinctively 
works  in  the  right  direction,  it  is  full  of  errors  introduced 
by  ignorant  and  unworthy  members — errors  which  must  be 
carefully  examined  and  cast  aside  by  degrees.  But,  as  I  said 
before,  it  is  the  only  Church  which  has  the  Principles  of  Elec- 
tricity within  it,  and  is  therefore  destined  to  live,  because 
electricity  is  life. 

"Now  I  beseech  the  reader  of  this  manuscript  to  which 
I,  Heliobas,  append  my  hand  and  seal,  to  remember  and 
realize  earnestly  the  following  invincible  facts:  first  that  God 
and  His  Christ  exist;  secondly,  that  while  the  little  paltry 
affairs  of  our  temporal  state  are  being  built  up  as  crazily  as 
a  child's  house  of  cards,  the  huge  Central  Sphere  revolves,  and 
the  Electric  Ring,  strong  and  indestructible,  is  ever  at  its 
work  of  production  and  re-absorption;  thirdly,  that  every 
thought  and  word  of  every  habitant  on  every  planet  is  re- 
flected in  lightning  language  before  the  Creator's  eyes  as 


7  vo 

A   ROMANCE   OP    TU'n    . 

TWO   M-ORLnq 

^'^'^3'  «pot  irthaj^l]'f'^^;  fourthly,  that  th'  , 

^Ji"^(ioncd  anr]   1     V   "^'^^^   "'here   I/iJ        V^^^  ^^or  d  is     . 

^^'P  uJieat  from  7)  /  *^'^'  <'^'J's.  'JM  "  f'''^'  ""^^^  ^^'m 
^  o^'o  ^ide-  the  r  n-^""^^'"^  J'^'^utv>are  ,V'^^^  ^^^^^  a 
•m^^chcs  wh,v!^  "■  '.^  ^•'."^•'^  on  tJ,e  of)....  ..I'f  .^^^^^'^"A'  1 


on 
gotJi 


^"^^  in  n.o%an.o  field     r,^^''''-''^  '^^  (I^I>    oT  "^'''">'  ^^'^ 

t'ltioii  of  c]-iv    fif       ^!^''^^^'"i  ^vender,  p  ."^^^'^  '^  ^'an  be- 

ons  disbol/or  iJ"     ^"'  "^'^^'  ^^^rou.fh  j^l'P'^^^^''  '^  ^^n  desert 

seaTnn  '\°^"/"^nt  was  signed  -r<    •    • 

canie  into  L         ^^^  musing  earnP.fK  ^^  ^°^^  and  key 

^^^■^eeabJe  way 'o^/ ,?"  P^^Posed  a  drive  4'!'°  ^^e  studio, 
"J  ^ant  to  hf  Pf'^^  ^^e  rest  of  tL     ,?'  ^^^^  ^^  an 
added,  with  n        "'  -^^^^  ^^«  possible  in  .     ^^^^'^^on. 
yonr  friend,  hn'f '^^^^^"^^  ^^^^eetnes     n  hJT  '°^P^°3^'''  ^^^^« 
^^avin^  nr;.  r'  ^^^^  to  Paris    I  pJ^/,'"'^^^^-  "^^^  now 

%  heart  1  i""'''^  ^^''^^^  as  n?nch  oT.  ^*  ^^""  ^"  ^°°°  ^^ 
y  ^eart  sank  at  the  thouX    /    '  °''  ^-'  ^  can.- 

'^'^^Sht  of  parting  from  her,  and 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  183 

ed  wistfully  at  her  lovely  face.     Leo  had  followed  her 
m  the  studio,  and  seemed  still  very  melancholy, 
e  shall  always  be  good  friends,  Zara,  dearest,"  I  said, 
we  not?     Close,  fond  friends,  like  sisters?" 
;ters  are  not  always  fond   of  each   other,"  remarked 
^^  half  gaily.     "xVnd  you  know  'there  is  a  friend  that 
ic   th  closer  than  a  brother'!'' 
nid  what  friend  is  that  in  your  case?"  I  asked,  half  jest- 
half  curiously. 

)ath!"  she  re])lied  with  a  strange  sniilo,  in  which  there 
■oth  pathos  and  triuni])h. 

arted  at  her  unexpected  reply,  and  a  kind  of  foreboding 
d  my  blood.     I  endeavored,  however,  to  speak  cheer- 
:l|:as  I  said: 

:hy,  of  course,  death  sticks  more  closely  to  us  than  any 
I  or  relative.  But  you  look  fitter  to  receive  the  em- 
>  of  life  than  of  death,  Zara." 

::iey  are  both  one  and  the  same  thing,"  she  answered; 
'■<>4;ather,  the  one  leads  to  the  other.  Jiut  do  not  let  us 
l»'*i  to  philosophize.  Put  on  yoni-  things  and  conu\  The 
<  :il;ge  is  waiting." 

sadily  obeyed  her,  and  we  enjoyed  an  exliilarating  drive 
ler.  The  rest  of  the  day  ])assed  witli  us  all  very  pleas- 
and  our  conversation  had  ])rineii)ally  to  do  with  the 
less  of  art  and  literature  in  many  lands,  and  maintained 
equably  on  the  level  of  mundane  affairs.  Among  other 
s,  we  spoke  of  the  Spanish  violinist,  Sarasate,  and  I 
3d  Ileliobas  by  quoting  to  him  some  of  the  criticisms  of 
ondon  daily  papers  on  this  great  artist,  such  as,  "He  plays 
5  which,  though  adapted  to  show  his  wonderful  skill, 
le  veriest  clap-trap;"  "He  lacks  breadth  and  color;"  "A 
'type  of  the  artist  virtuoso,"  etc.,  etc. 
alf  these  people  do  not  know  in  the  least  what  they 
in|  by  'breadth  and  color'  or  'virtuosity,' "  said  Heliobas, 
wi  a  smile.  "They  think  emotion,  passion,  all  true  senti- 
MK  combined  with  extraordinary  technique,  must  be  'clap- 
T)  Now  the  Continent  of  Europe  acknowledges  Pablo  de 
Sa  ;ate  as  the  first  violinist  living,  and  London  would  not 
le  Dndon  unless  it  could  thrust  an  obtuse  opposing  opinion 
in  e  face  of  the  Continent.  England  is  the  last  country 
n.  e  world  to  accept  anything  new.  Its  people  are  tired 
m  )la8e;  like  highly  trained  circus-horses,  they  want  to  trot 


184  A   ROMIANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

or  gallop  always  in  the  old  grooves.  It  will  always  be  so. 
Sarasate  is  like  a  brilliant  meteor  streaming  across  their  nar- 
row bit  of  the  heaven  of  music;  they  stare,  gape,  and  think  it 
is  an  unnatural  phenomenon — a  'virtuosity'  in  the  way  of 
meteors,  which  they  are  afraid  to  accept  lest  it  set  them  on* 
fire.  What  would  you?  The  meteor  shines  and  burns;  it 
is  always  a  meteor!" 

So,  talking  lightly,  and  gliding  from  subject  to  subject, 
the  hours  wore  away,  and  we  at  last  separated  for  the  night. 

I  shall  always  be  glad  to  remember  how  tenderly  Zara 
kissed  me  and  wished  me  good  repose;  and  I  recall  now, 
with  mingled  pain,  wonder,  and  gratitude,  how  perfectly 
calm  and  contented  I  felt,  as,  after  my  prayers,  I  sank  to 
sleep,  unwarned,  and  therefore  happily  unconscious,  of  what 
awaited  me  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

DEATH  BY  LIGHTNING. 

The  morning  of  the  next  day  dawned  rather  gloomily.  A 
yellowish  fog  obscured  the  air,  and  there  was  a  closeness  and 
sultriness  in  the  atmosphere  that  was  strange  for  that  wintry 
season.  I  had  slept  well,  and  rose  with  the  general  sense 
of  ease  and  refreshment  that  I  always  experienced  since  I  had 
been  under  the  treatment  of  Hcliobas.  Those  whose  un- 
happy physical  condition  causes  them  to  awake  from  uneasy 
slumber  feeling  almost  more  fatigued  than  when  they  retired 
to  rest,  can  scarcely  have  any  idea  of  the  happiness  it  engen- 
ders to  open  untircd,  glad  eyes  with  the  morning  light;  to 
feel  the  very  air  a  nourishment;  to  stand  with  lithe, 
rested  limbs  in  the  bath  of  cool,  pure  water,  finding  that  limpid 
element  obediently  adding  its  quota  to  the  vigor  of  perfect 
health;  to  tingle  from  head  to  foot  with  the  warm  current 
of  life  running  briskly  through  the  veins,  making  the  heart 
merry,  the  brain  clear,  and  all  the  powers  of  body  and  mind 
in  active  working  condition.  This  is  indeed  most  absolute 
enjoyment.  Add  to  it  the  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  one's 
own  inner  Immortal  Spirit — the  beautiful  germ  of  Light  in 
thQ  fostering  of  which  no  labor  is  ever  taken  in  vain — the 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  185 

living,  wondrous  thing  tliat  is  destined  to  watch  an  eternity 
of  worlds  bloom  and  fade  to  bloom  again,  like  Howers,  while 
itself,  superior  to  them  all,  shall  become  ever  more  strong 
and  radiant — with  these  surroundings  and  prospects,  who 
shall  say  life  is  not  worth  living? 

Dear  Life!  sweet  Moment!  gracious  Opportunity!  brief 
Journey  so  well  worth  the  taking!  gentle  Exile  so  well  worth 
enduring! — thy  bitterest  sorrows  arc  but  blessings  in  disguise; 
thy  sharpest  pains  are  brought  upon  us  by  ourselves,  and 
even  then  are  turned  to  warnings  for  our  guidance;  while 
above  us,  through  us,  and  around  us  radiates  the  Supreme 
Love,  unalterably  tender! 

These  thoughts,  and  others  like  them,  all  more  or  less  con- 
ducive to  cheerfulness,  occupied  me  till  I  had  finished  dress- 
ing. Melancholy  was  now  no  part  of  my  nature,  otherwise 
I  might  have  been  depressed  by  the  appearance  of  the  weather 
and  the  murkiness  of  the  air.  But  since  I  learned  the  simple 
secrets  of  physical  electricity,  atmospheric  influences  have  had 
no  effect  upon  the  equable  poise  of  my  temperament — a  fact 
for  which  I  cannot  be  too  grateful,  seeing  how  many  of  my 
fellow-creatures  permit  themselves  to  be  affected  by  changes 
in  the  wind,  intense  heat,  intense  cold,  or  other  things  of  the 
like  character. 

I  went  down  to  breakfast,  singing  softly  on  my  way,  and 
I  found  Zara  already  seated  at  the  head  of  her  table,  while 
Heliobas  was  occupied  in  reading  and  sorting  a  pile  of  letters 
that  lay  beside  his  plate.  Both  greeted  me  with  their  usual 
warmth  and  heartiness. 

During  the  repast,  however,  the  brother  and  sister  were 
strangely  silent,  and  once  or  twice  I  fancied  that  Zara's  eyes 
filled  with  tears,  though  she  smiled  again  so  quickly  and  ra- 
diantly that  I  felt  I  was  mistaken. 

A  piece  of  behavior  on  the  part  of  Leo,  too,  filled  me  with 
dismay.  He  had  been  lying  quietly  at  his  master's  feet  for 
some  time,  when  he  suddenly  arose,  sat  upright,  and  lifting 
his  nose  in  air,  uttered  a  most  prolonged  and  desolate 
howl.  Anything  more  thoroughly  heartbroken  and  despair- 
ing than  that  cry  I  have  never  heard.  After  he  had  con- 
cluded it,  the  poor  animal  seemed  ashamed  of  what  he  had 
done,  and  creeping  meekly  along,  with  drooping  head  and  tail, 
he  Idssed  his  master's  hand,  then  mine,  and  lastly  Zara's, 


186  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

Finally,  he  went  into  a  distant  corner  and  lay  down  again, 
as  if  iiis  feelings  were  altogether  too  much  for  him. 

"Is  he  ill?"  I  asked  pityingly. 

"I  think  not,"  replied  Heliobas.  "The  weather  is  peculiar 
to-day — close,  and  almost  thunderous;  dogs  are  very  suscept- 
ible to  such  changes." 

At  that  moment  the  page  entered  bearing  a  silver  salver, 
on  which  lay  a  letter,  which  he  handed  to  his  master  and 
immediately  retired. 

Heliobas  opened  and  read  it. 

"Ivan  regrets  he  cannot  dine  with  ns  to-day,"  he  said, 
glancing  at  his  sister;  "he  is  otherwise  engaged.  He  says, 
however,  that  he  hopes  to  have  the  pleasure  of  looking  in 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  evening." 

Zara  inclined  her  head  gently,  and  made  no  other  reply. 

A  few  seconds  afterwards  we  rose  from  table,  and  Zara, 
linking  her  arm  through  mine,  said : 

"I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  you  while  we  can  be  alone. 
Come  to  my  room." 

We  went  upstairs  together,  followed  by  the  wise  yet  doleful 
Leo,  who  seemed  determined  not  to  let  his  mistress  out  of 
his  sight.  When  we  arrived  at  oul^  destination,  Zara  pushed 
me  gently  into  an  easy-chair  and  seated  herself  in  another 
one  opposite. 

"I  am  going  to  ask  a  favor  of  you,"  she  began;  "because 
I  know  you  will  do  anything  to  please  me  or  Casimir.  Is  it 
not  so?" 

I  assured  her  she  might  rely  upon  my  observing  Avith  the 
truest  fidelity  any  request  of  hers,  small  or  great. 

She  thanked  me  and  resumed: 

"You  know  I  have  been  working  secretly  in  my  studio 
for  some  time  past.  I  have  been  occupied  in  the  execution  of 
two  designs — one  is  finished,  and  is  intended  as  a  gift  to 
Casimir.  The  other" — she  hesitated — "is  incomplete.  It  is 
tbe  colossal  figure  which  was  veiled  when  you  first  came  in 
to  see  my  little  statue  of  'Evening.'  I  made  an  attempt 
beyond  my  powers — in  short,  I  cannot  carry  out  the  idea 
to  my  satisfaction.  Now,  dear,  pay  great  attention  to  what 
I  say.  T  have  reason  to  believe  that  I  shall  be  compelled 
to  take  a  sudden  journey — promise  me  that  when  I  am  gone 
yon  will  see  that  unfinished  statue  completely  destroyed — 
utter! V  flcmolishcrl." 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  187 

I  could  not  answer  her  for  a  minute  or  two,  I  was  so  sur- 
prised by  her  words. 

"Going  on  a  journey,  Zara?"  I  said.  "Well,  if  you  are, 
I  suppose  3'ou  will  soon  return  home  again;  and  why  should 
your  statue  be  destroyed  in  the  meantime?  You  may  yet 
be  able  to  bring  it  to  final  perfection." 

Zara  shook  her  head  and  smiled  half  sadly. 

"I  told  you  it  was  a  favor  I  had  to  ask  of  you,"  she  said; 
"and  now  you  are  unwilling  to  grant  it." 

"I  am  not  unwilling — believe  me,  dearest,  I  would  do  any- 
thing to  please  you,"  I  assured  her;  "but  it  seems  so  strange 
to  me  that  you  should  wish  the  result  of  your  labor  destroyed, 
simply  because  you  are  going  on  a  journey." 

"Strange  as  it  seems,  I  desire  it  most  earnestly,"  said  Zara; 
"otherwise — but  if  you  will  not  see  it  done  for  me,  I  must 
preside  at  the  work  of  demolition  myself,  though  I  frankly 
confess  it  would  be  most  painful  to  me." 

I  interrupted  her. 

"Say  no  more,  Zara!"  I  exclaimed;  "I  will  do  as  you  wish. 
AVhen  you  are  gone,  you  say " 

"When  I  am  gone,"  repeated  Zara  firmly,  "and  before  you 
yourself  leave  this  house,  you  will  see  that  particular  statue 
destroyed.     You  will  thus  do  me  a  very  great  ser^dce." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "and  when  are  you  coming  back  again? 
Before  I  leave  Paris?" 

"I  hope  so — I  think  so,"  she  replied  evasively;  "at  any 
rate,  we  shall  meet  again  soon." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  I  asked. 

Slie  smiled.     Such  a  lovely,  glad  and  triumphant  smile. 

"You  will  know  my  destination  before  to-night  has  passed 
away,"  she  answered.  "In  the  meanwhile  I  have  vour  prom- 
ise?" 

"Most  certainly." 

She  Idssed  me,  and  as  she  did  so,  a  lurid  flash  caught 
my  eyes  and  almost  dazzled  them.  It  was  a  gleam  of  fiery 
lustre  from  the  electric  jewel  she  wore. 

The  day  went  on  its  usual  course,  and  the  weather  seemed 
to  grow  murkier  every  hour.  The  air  was  almost  sultry,  and 
when  during  the  afternoon  I  M-ent  into  the  conservatory  to 
gather  some  of  the  glorious  Marechal  Niel  roses  that  grew 
there  in  such  perfection,  the  intense  heat  of  the  place  was 
nearly  insupportable.     I  saw  nothing  of  Heliobas  all  day, 


188  A   nOMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

and,  after  tlie  morning,  very  little  of  Zara.  She  disappeared 
soon  after  luncheon,  and  I  could  not  find  her  in  her  rooms 
nor  in  her  studio,  though  I  knocked  at  the  door  several  times. 
Leo,  too,  was  missing.  After  being  alone  for  an  hour  or 
more,  I  thought  I  would  pay  a  visit  to  the  chapel.  But  on 
attempting  to  carry  out  this  intention,  I  found  its  doors 
locked — an  unusual  circumstance  which  rather  surprised  me. 
Fancying  that  I  heard  the  sound  of  voices  within,  I  paused 
to  listen.  But  all  was  profoundly  silent.  Strolling  into  the 
hall,  I  took  up  at  random  from  a  side-table  a  little  volume  of 
poems,  unknown  to  me,  called  "Pygmalion  in  Cyprus;"  and 
seating  myself  in  one  of  the  luxurious  Oriental  easy-chairs 
near  the  silvery  sparkling  fountain,  I  began  to  read.  I  opened 
the  book  I  held  at  "A  Ballad  of  Kisses,"  which  ran  as  fol- 
lows: 

"There  are  three  kisses  that  I  call  to  mind. 
And  I  will  sing  their  secrets  as  I  go, — 
The  first,  a  kiss  too  courteous  to  be  kind, 
Was  such  a  kiss  as  monks  and  maidens  know, 
As  sharp  as  frost,  as  blameless  as  the  snow. 

"The  second  kiss,  ah  God!  I  feel  it  yet, — 

And  evermore  my  soul  will  loathe  the  same, — 
The  toys  and  joys  of  fate  I  may  forget, 
But  not  the  touch  of  that  divided  shame; 
It  clove  my  lips — it  burnt  me  like  a  flame. 

"The  third,  the  final  kiss,  is  one  I  use 

Morning  and  noon  and  night,  and  not  amiss. 
Soirow  be  mine  if  such  I  do  refuse! 
And  when  I  die,  be  Love  enrapt  in  bliss 
Re-sanctified  in  heaven  by  such  a  kiss!" 

This  little  gem,  which  I  read  and  re-read  with  pleasure, 
was  only  one  of  many  in  the  same  collection.  The 
author  was  assuredly  a  man  of  genius.  I  studied  his  word- 
melodies  with  intense  interest,  and  noted  with  some  surprise 
how  original  and  beautiful  were  many  of  his  fancies  and  sim- 
iles. I  say  I  noted  them  with  surprise,  because  he  was  evi- 
dently a  modern  Englishman,  and  yet  unlike  any  other  of  his 
writing  species.  His  name  was  not  Alfred  Tennyson,  nor 
Edwin  Arnold,  nor  Matthew  Arnold,  nor  Austin  Dobson,  nor 
Martin  Tupper,  He  was  neither  plagiarist  nor  translator — he 
was  actually  an  original  man.  I  do  not  give  his  name  here, 
as  I  consider  it  the  duty  of  his  own  country  to  find  him  out 


Ai   ROMANCE   OF  TWO   WORLDS.  189 

and  acknowledge  him,  which,  as  it  is  so  proud  of  its  literary 
standing,  of  course  it  will  do  in  due  season.  On  this,  my  first 
introduction  to  his  poems,  I  became  speedily  absorbed  in 
them,  and  was  repeating  to  myself  softly  a  verse  which  I 
remember  now: 

"Hers  was  the  sweetest  of  sweet  faces, 

Hers  the  tenderest  eyes  of  all; 
In  her  hair  she  had  the  traces 

Of  a  heavenly  coronal, 
Bringing  sunshine  to  sad  places 

Where  the  sunlight  could  not  fall." 

Then  I  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  a  clock  striking  six. 
I  bethought  myself  of  the  people  who  were  coming  to  dinner, 
and  decided  to  go  to  my  room  and  dress.  Eeplacing  the 
"Pygmalion"  book  on  the  table  whence  I  had  taken  it,  I 
made  my  way  upstairs,  thinking  as  I  went  of  Zara  and  her 
strange  request,  and  wondering  what  journey  she  was  going 
upon. 

I  could  not  come  to  any  satisfactory  conclusion  on  this 
point;  besides,  I  had  a  curious  disinclination  to  think  about 
it  very  earnestly,  though  the  subject  kept  returning  to  my 
mind.  Yet  always  some  inward  monitor  seemed  to  assure 
me,  as  plainly  as  though  the  words  were  spoken  in  my  ear: 

'"It  is  useless  for  you  to  consider  the  reason  of  this,  or 
the  meaning  of  that.  Take  things  as  they  come  in  due  order: 
one  circumstance  explains  the  other,  and  everything  is  always 
for  the  best." 

I  prepared  my  Indian  crepe  dress  for  the  evening,  the 
same  I  had  worn  for  Madame  Didier's  party  at  Cannes;  only, 
instead  of  having  lilies  of  the  valley  to  ornament  it  with,  I 
arranged  some  clusters  of  the  Marechal  Niel  roses  I  had 
gathered  from  the  conservatory — lovely  blossoms,  with  their 
dewy  pale-gold  centres  forming  perfect  cups  of  delicious  fra- 
grance. These,  relieved  by  a  few  delicate  sprays  of  the 
maiden-hair  fern,  formed  a  becoming  finish  to  my  simple 
costume.  As  I  arrayed  myself,  and  looked  at  my  own  reflec- 
tion in  the  long  mirror,  I  smiled  out  of  sheer  gratitude.  For 
health,  joyous  and  vigorous,  sparkled  in  my  eyes,  glowed  on 
my  cheeks,  tinted  my  lips,  and  rounded  my  figure.  The 
face  that  looked  back  at  me  from  the  glass  was  a  perfectly 
happy  one;  ready  to  dimple  into  glad  mirth  or  bright  laughter* 


190  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  i 

No  shadow  of  pain  or  care  remained  upon  it  to  remind  me  of 
past  suilering,  and  I  murmured  half  aloud:     "Thank  God!" 

"Amen!"  said  a  soft  voice,  and,  turning  round,  I  saw  Zara. 

But  how  shall  I  describe  her?  No  words  can  adequately 
paint  the  glorious  beauty  in  which,  that  night,  she  seemed 
to  move  as  in  an  atmosphere  of  her  own  creating.  She  wore 
a  clinging  robe  of  the  richest,  softest  white  satin,  caught 
in  at  the  waist  by  a  zone  of  pearls — pearls  which,  from  their 
size  and  purity,  must  have  been  priceless.  Her  beautiful  neck 
and  arms  were  bare,  and  twelve  rows  of  pearls  were  clasped 
round  her  slender  throat,  supporting  in  their  centre  the  elec- 
tric stone,  which  shone  with  a  soft,  subdued  radiance,  like 
the  light  of  the  young  moon.  Her  rich,  dark  hair  was  ar- 
ranged in  its  usual  fashion — that  is,  hanging  down  in  one- 
thick  plait,  which  on  this  occasion  was  braided  in  and  out 
with  small  pearls.  On  her  bosom  she  wore  a  magnificent 
cluster  of  natural  orange-blossoms;  and  of  these,  while  I  gazed 
admiringly  at  her,  I  first  spoke: 

"You  look  like  a  bride,  Zara!  You  have  all  the  outward 
signs  of  one — white  satin,  pearls,  and  orange-blossoms!" 

She  smiled. 

"They  are  the  first  cluster  that  has  come  out  in  our  con- 
servatory," she  said;  "and  I  could  not  resist  them.  As  to 
the  pearls,  they  belonged  to  my  mother,  and  are  my  favorite 
ornaments;  and  white  satin  is  now  no  longer  exclusively  for 
brides.  How  soft  and  pretty  that  Indian  crepe  is!  Your 
toilette  is  charming,  and  suits  you  to  perfection.  Are  you 
quite  ready?" 

"Quite,"  I  answered. 

She  hesitated  and  sighed.  Then  she  raised  her  lovely  eyes 
with  a  sort  of  wistful  tenderness. 

"Before  we  go  down  I  should  like  you  to  kiss  me  once," 
she  said. 

I  embraced  her  fondly,  and  our  lips  met  with  a  lingering 
sisterly  caress. 

"You  will  never  forget  me,  will  you?"  she  asked  almost 
anxiously;  "never  cease  to  think  of  me  kindly?" 

"How  fanciful  you  are  to-night,  Zara  dear!"  I  said.  "As 
if  I  could  forget  you!  I  shall  always  think  of  you  as  the  love- 
liest and  sweetest  woman  in  the  world." 

"And  when  I  am  out  of  the  world — what  then?"  she  pur- 
sued. 


A  ROMANCE  OF  TWO  WORLDS.  191 

Eemembering  her  spiritual  sympathies,  I  answered  at  once: 

"Even  then  I  shall  know  you  to  be  one  of  the  fairest  of  the 
angels.     So  you  see,  Zara  darhng,  I  shall  always  love  you." 

"I  think  you  will,"  she  said  meditatively;  "you  are  one  of 
us.  But  come!  I  hear  voices  downstairs.  I  think  our  ex- 
pected guests  have  arrived,  and  we  must  he  in  the  drawing- 
room  to  receive  them.  Good-bye,  little  friend!"  And  she 
again  kissed  me. 

"Good-bye!"  I  repeated  in  astonishment;  "why  'good- 
bye'?" 

"Because  it  is  my  fancy  to  say  the  word,"  she  replied  with 
quiet  firmness.     "Again,  dear  little  friend,  good-bye!" 

I  felt  bewildered,  but  she  would  not  give  me  time  to  utter 
-another  syllable.  She  took  my  hand  and  hurried  me  with 
her  downstairs,  and  in  another  moment  we  were  both  in  the 
drawing-room,  receiving  and  saying  polite  nothings  to  the 
Everards  and  Challoners,  who  had  all  arrived  together,  re- 
splendent in  evening  costume.  Amy  Everard,  I  thought, 
looked  a  little  tired  and  fagged,  though  she  rejoiced  in  a 
superb  "arrangement"  by  Worth  of  ruby  velvet  and  salmon- 
pink.  But,  though  a  perfect  dress  is  consoling  to  most 
women,  there  are  times  when  even  that  fails  of  its  effect; 
and  then  Worth  ceases  to  loom  before  the  feminine  eye  as 
a  sort  of  demi-god,  but  dwindles  insignificantly  to  the  level 
of  a  mere  tailor,  whose  prices  are  ruinous.  And  this,  I  think, 
was  the  state  of  mind  in  which  Mrs.  Everard  found  herself 
that  evening;  or  else  she  was  a  trifle  jealous  of  Zara's  har- 
monious grace  and  loveliness.  Be  this  as  it  may,  she  was 
irritable,  and  whisperingly  found  fault  with  me  for  being 
in  such  good  health. 

"You  will  have  too  much  color  if  you  don't  take  care," 
she  said  almost  pettishly,  "and  nothing  is  so  unfashionable." 

"I  know!"  I  replied  with  due  meekness.  "It  is  very  bad 
style  to  be  quite  well — it  is  almost  improper." 

She  looked  at  me,  and  a  glimmering  smile  lighted  her 
features.  But  she  would  not  permit  herself  to  become  good- 
humored,  and  she  furled  and  unfurled  her  fan  of  pink  ostrich 
feathers  with  some  impatience. 

"Where  did  that  child  get  all  those  pearls  from?"  she  next 
inquired,  Avith  a  gesture  of  her  head  towards  Zara. 

"They  belonged  to  her  motlier,"  I  answered,  smiling  as 
1  heard  Zara  called  a  child,  knowing,  as  I  did,  her  real  age. 


192  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

"She  is  actually  ^v  earing  a  small  fortune  on  her  person/' 
went  on  Amy;  "I  wonder  her  brother  allows  her.  Girls  never 
understand  the  value  of  things  of  that  sort.  They  should  be 
kept  for  her  till  she  is  old  enough  to  appreciate  them." 

I  made  no  reply;  I  was  absorbed  in  watching  Heliobas, 
who  at  that  moment  entered  the  room  accompanied  by  Fatlier 
Paul.  He  greeted  his  guests  with  warmth  and  unaffeetc'(l 
heartiness,  and  all  present  were,  I  could  see,  at  once  fascinated 
by  the  dignity  of  his  presence  and  the  charm  of  his  manner. 
To  an  uninstructed  eye  there  was  nothing  unusual  about 
him;  but  to  me  there  was  a  change  in  his  expression  which, 
as  it  were,  warned  and  startled  me.  A  deep  shadow  of  anxiety 
in  his  eyes  made  them  look  more  sombre  and  less  keen;  his 
smile  was  not  so  sweet  as  it  was  stern,  and  there  was  an 
undefinable  something  in  his  very  bearing  that  suggested — 
what?  Defiance?  Yes,  defiance;  and  it  w^as  this  Avhich,  when 
I  had  realized  it,  curiously  alarmed  me.  For  what  had  he, 
Heliobas,  to  do  with  even  the  thought  of  defiance?  Did  not 
all  his  power  come  from  the  knowledge  of  the  necessity  of 
obedience  to  the  spiritual  powers  within  and  without?  Quick 
as  light  the  words  spoken  to  me  by  Azul  regarding  him  came 
back  to  my  remembrance:  "Even  as  he  is  my  Beloved,  so 
let  him  not  fail  to  hear  my  voice."  What  if  he  should  fail?  A 
kind  of  instinct  came  upon  me  that  some  immediate  danger 
of  this  threatened  him,  and  I  braced  myself  up  to  a  firm 
determination  that,  if  this  was  so,  I,  out  of  my  deep  gratitude 
to  him,  would  do  my  utmost  to  warn  him  in  time.  While 
these  thoughts  possessed  me,  the  hum  of  gay  conversation 
w^ent  on,  and  Zara's  bright  laughter  ever  and  again  broke  like 
music  on  the  air.  Father  Paul,  too,  proved  himself  to  be  of 
a  festive  and  jovial  disposition,  for  he  made  himself  agree- 
able to  Mrs.  Challoncr  and  her  daughters,  and  entertained 
them  with  the  ease  and  bonhomie  of  an  accomplished  courtier 
and  man  of  the  world. 

Dinner  was  announced  in  the  usual  way — that  is,  with 
the  sound  of  music  played  by  the  electric  instrument  devoted 
to  that  purpose,  a  performance  which  elicited  much  admira- 
tion from  all  the  guests.  Heliobas  led  the  way  into  the  diii- 
ing-room  with  Ifrs.  Everard;  Colonel  Everard  followed,  witli 
Zara  on  one  arm  and  the  eldest  Miss  Challoner  on  the  other; 
Mr.  Challoner  and  myself  came  next;  and  Father  Paul,  v/ith 
Mrs.  Challoncr  and  her  other  daughter  Efiie,  brought  up  the 


A  ROMANCE  OF  TWO  WORLDS.  193 

rear.  There  was  a  universal  murmur  of  surprise  and  delight 
as  the  dinner-table  came  in  view;  and  its  arrangement  was 
indeed  a  triumph  of  art.  In  the  centre  was  placed  a  large 
round  crystal  in  imitation  of  a  lake,  and  on  this  apparentl}^ 
floated  a  beautiful  gondola  steered  by  the  figure  of  a  gon- 
dolier, both  exquisitely  wrought  in  fine  Venetian  glass.  The 
gondola  was  piled  high  with  a  cargo  of  roses;  but  the 
wonder  of  it  all  was,  that  the  whole  design  was  lit  up  by 
electricity.  Electric  sparkles,  like  drops  of  dew,  shone  on 
the  leaves  of  the  flowers;  the  gondola  was  lit  from  end  to 
end  with  electric  stars,  which  were  reflected  with  ])rismatic 
brilliancy  in  the  crystal  below;  the  gondolier's  long  pole  glit- 
tered with  what  appeared  to  be  drops  of  water  tinged  by  the 
moonlight,  but  which  was  really  an  electric  wire,  and  in  his 
cap  flashed  an  electric  diamond.  The  whole  ornament  scin- 
tillated and  glowed  like  a  marvellous  jjiece  of  curiously  con- 
trived jewel-work.  And  this  was  not  all.  Beside  every  guest 
at  table  a  slender  vase,  shaped  like  a  long-stemmed  Nile  lily, 
held  roses  and  ferns,  in  which  were  hidden  tiny  electric  stars, 
causing  the  blossoms  to  shine  with  a  transparent  and  almost 
fairy-like  lustre. 

Four  graceful  youths,  clad  in  the  Armenian  costume,  stood 
waiting  silently  round  the  table  till  all  present  were  seated, 
and  then  they  commenced  the  business  of  serving  the  viands, 
with  swift  and  noiseless  dexterity.  As  soon  as  the  soup  was 
handed  round,  tongues  were  loosened,  and  the  Challoners, 
who  had  been  gazing  at  everything  in  almost  open-mouthed 
astonishment,  began  to  relieve  their  feelings  by  warm  expres- 
sions of  unqualified  admiration,  in  which  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Everard  were  not  slow  to  join. 

"I  do  say,  and  I  will  say,  this  beats  all  I've  ever  seen," 
said  good  Mrs.  Challoner,  as  she  bent  to  examine  the  glit- 
tering vase  of  flowers  near  her  plate. 

"And  this  is  real  electric  light?  And  is  it  perfectly  harm- 
less?" 

Heliobas  smilingly  assured  her  of  the  safety  of  his  table 
decorations. 

"Electricity,"  ho  said,  "though  the  most  powerful  of  mas- 
ters, is  the  most  docile  of  slaves.  It  is  capable  of  the  smallest 
as  well  as  of  the  greatest  uses.  It  can  give  with  equal  cer- 
tainty life  or  death;  in  fact,  it  is  the  key-note  of  creation." 

"Is  that  your  theory,  sir?"  asked  Colonel  Everard. 


194  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"It  is  not  only  my  theory,"  answered  Heliobas,  "it  is  a 
truth,  indisputable  and  unalterable,  to  those  who  have  studied 
the  mysteries  of  electric  science." 

"And  do  you  base  all  your  medical  treatment  on  this  prin- 
ciple?" pursued  the  Colonel. 

"Certainly.  Your  young  friend  here,  who  came  to  me 
from  Cannes,  looking  as  if  she  had  but  a  few  months  to 
live,  can  bear  witness  to  the  efficacy  of  my  method." 

Every  eye  was  now  turned  upon  me,  and  I  looked  up  and 
laughed. 

"Do  you  remember.  Amy,"  I  said,  addressing  Mrs.  Everard, 
"how  you  told  me  I  looked  like  a  sick  nun  at  Cannes?  What 
do  I  look  like  now?" 

"You  look  as  if  you  had  never  been  ill  in  your  life,"  she 
replied. 

"I  was  going  to  say,"  remarked  Mr.  Challoner  in  his  delib- 
erate manner,  "that  you  remind  me  very  much  of  a  small 
painting  of  Diana  that  I  saw  in  the  Louvre  the  other  day. 
You  have  the  same  sort  of  elasticity  in  your  movements,  and 
the  same  bright  healthy  eyes." 

I  bowed,  still  smiling.  "I  did  not  know  that  you  were  sucli 
a  flatterer,  Mr.  Challoner!     Diana  thanks  you!" 

The  conversation  now  became  general,  and  turned,  among 
other  subjects,  upon  the  growing  reputation  of  Eaflaello 
Cellini. 

"What  surprises  me  in  that  young  man,"  said  Colonel 
Everard,  "is  his  coloring.  It  is  simply  marvellous.  He  was 
smiable  enough  to  present  me  with  a  little  landscape  scene; 
and  the  effect  of  light  upon  it  is  so  powerfully  done  that 
you  would  swear  the  sun  was  actually  shining  through  it." 

The  fine  sensitive  mouth  of  Ileliobas  curved  in  a  some- 
wbat  sarcastic  smile. 

"Mere  trickery,  my  dear  sir — a  piece  of  clap-trap,"  he 
said  lightly.  "That  is  what  would  be  said  of  sucli  pictures — 
in  Englaud  at  least.  And  it  will  be  said  by  many  oracular, 
long-established  newspapers,  while  Cellini  lives.  As  soon 
as  he  is  dead — ah!  c^est  autre  chose! — he  will  then  most  prob- 
ably be  acknowledged  the  greatest  master  of  the  age.  There 
may  even  be  a  Cellini  'School  of  Coloring,'  where  a  select 
company  of  daubers  v/ill  profess  to  know  the  sec-ret  that  has 
died  with  him.     It  is  the  way  of  the  world!" 


A  ROMANCE  OF  TWO  WORLDS.  195 

Mr.  Challoner's  rugged  face  showed  signs  of  satisfaction, 
and  his  shrewd  eyes  twinkled. 

"Right  you  are,  sir!"  he  said,  holding  up  his  glass  of 
wine.  "I  drink  to  you!  Sir,  J  agree  with  you!  I  calculate 
there's  a  good  many  worlds  flying  round  in  space,  hut  a  more 
ridiculous,  feeble-minded,  contrary  sort  of  world  than  this 
one,  I  defy  any  archangel  to  find!" 

Heliobas  laughed,  nodded,  and  after  a  slight  pause  re- 
sumed : 

"It  is  astonishing  to  me  that  people  do  not  see  to  what 
an  infinite  number  of  uses  they  could  put  the  little  re-dis- 
covery they  have  made  of  luminous  paint.  In  that  simple 
thing  there  is  a  secret,  which  as  yet  they  do  not  guess — a 
wonderful,  beautiful,  scientific  secret,  which  may  perhaps  take 
them  a  few  hundred  years  to  find  out.  In  the  meantime  they 
have  got  hold  of  one  end  of  the  thread;  they  can  make  lumin- 
ous paint,  and  with  it  they  can  paint  light-houses,  and  what 
is  far  more  important — ships.  Vessels  in  mid-ocean  will  have 
no  more  need  of  fog  signals  and  diiferent-colored  lamps; 
their  own  coat  of  paint  will  be  sufficient  to  light  them  safely 
on  their  way.  Even  rooms  can  be  so  painted  as  to  be  per- 
fectly luminous  at  night.  A  friend  of  mine,  residing  in 
Italy,  has  a  luminous  ballroom,  where  the  ceiling  is  decorated 
with  a  moon  and  stars  in  electric  light.  The  effect  is  ex- 
ceedingly lovely;  and  though  people  think  a  great  deal  of 
money  must  have  been  laid  out  upon  it,  it  is  perhaps  the 
only  great  ballroom  in  Italy  that  has  been  really  cheaply 
fitted  up.  But,  as  I  said  before,  there  is  another  secret 
behind  the  invention  or  discovery  of  luminous  paint — a  secret 
which,  when  once  unveiled,  will  revolutionize  all  the  schools 
of  art  in  the  world." 

"Do  you  know  this  secret?"  asked  Mrs.  Challoner. 

"Yes,  madame — perfectly." 

"Then  why  don't  you  disclose  it  for  the  benefit  of  every- 
body?" demanded  Effie  Chnlloncr. 

"Because,  my  dear  young  lady,  no  one  would  believe  me 
if  I  did.  The  time  is  not  yet  ripe  for  it.  The  world  must 
Avait  till  its  people  are  better  educated." 

"Better  educated!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Everard.  "Why,  there 
is  nothing  talked  of  nowadays  but  education  and  progress! 
The  very  children  are  wiser  than  their  parents!" 

"The  diildren!"  returned  HeUobas,  half  inquiringly,  half 


196  :Ai   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

indignantly.  "At  the  rate  things  are  going,  there  will  soon 
be  no  children  left;  they  will  all  be  tired  little  old  men  and 
women  before  they  are  in  their  teens.  The  very  babes  will 
be  born  old.  Many  of  them  are  being  brought  up  without 
any  faith  in  God  or  religion;  the  result  will  be  an  increase 
of  vice  and  crime.  The  purblind  philosophers,  miscalled  wise 
men,  who  teach  the  children  by  the  light  of  poor  human 
reason  only,  and  do  away  with  faith  in  spiritual  things,  are 
bringing  down  upon  the  generations  to  come  an  unlooked- 
for  and  most  terrific  curse.  Childhood,  the  happy,  innocent, 
sweet,  unthinking,  almost  angelic  age,  at  which  Nature  would 
have  us  believe  in  fairies  and  all  the  delicate  aerial  fancies 
of  poets,  who  are,  after  all,  the  only  true  sages — childhood,  I 
say,  is  being  gradually  stamped  out  under  the  cruel  iron  heel 
of  the  Period — a  period  not  of  Avisdom,  health,  or  beauty, 
but  one  of  drunken  delirium,  in  which  the  world  rushes  fever- 
ishly along,  its  eyes  fixed  on  one  hard,  glittering,  stony- 
featured  idol — Gold.  Education!  Is  it  education  to  teach 
the  young  that  their  chances  of  happiness  depend  on  being 
richer  than  their  neighbors?  Yet  that  is  what  it  all  tends 
to.  Get  on! — ^be  successful!  Trample  on  others,  but  push 
forward  yourself!  Money,  money! — let  its  chink  be  your 
music;  let  its  yellow  shine  be  fairer  than  the  eyes  of  love 
or  friendship!  Let  its  piles  accumulate  and  ever  accumulate! 
There  are  beggars  in  the  streets,  but  they  are  impostors! 
There  is  poverty  in  many  places,  but  why  seek  to  relieve  it? 
Why  lessen  the  sparkling  heaps  of  gold  by  so  much  as  a 
coin?  Accumulate  and  ever  accumulate!  Live  so,  and  then 
-—die!     And  then — who  knows  what  then?" 

His  voice  had  been  full  of  ringing  eloquence  as  he  spoke, 
but  at  these  last  words  it  sank  into  a  lov/,  thrilling  tone  of 
solemnity  and  earnestness.  We  all  looked  at  him,  fasci- 
nated by  his  manner,  and  were  silent. 

Mr.  Challoner  was  the  first  to  break  the  impressive  pause. 

"I'm  not  a  speaker,  sir,"  he  observed  slowly,  "but  I've 
got  a  good  deal  of  feeling  somewheres;  and  you'll  allow 
mo  to  say  that  I  feel  your  words — I  think  they're  right  true. 
I've  often  wanted  to  say  what  you've  said,  but  haven't  seen 
mv  way  clear  to  it.  Anyhow,  I've  had  a  very  general  impres- 
sion about  me  that  what  we  call  Society  has  of  late  years 
been  going,  per  express  worvice,  direct  to  the  devil — if  the 
ladies  will  excuse  me  for  plain  speaking.    And  93  Mie  journey 


'Al  ROMANCE  OP  TWO  WORLDS.  197 

is  being  taken  by  choice  and  free-will,  I  suppose  there's  no 
hindrance  or  sto])page  possible.  Besides,  it's  a  downward 
line,  and  eurionsly  free  from  obstructions." 

"Bravo,  John!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Challoner.  "You  are  actu- 
ally coming  out!  I  never  heard  you  indulge  in  similes 
before." 

"Well,  my  dear,"  returned  her  husband,  somewhat  grati- 
fied, "better  late  than  never.  A  simile  is  a  good  thing  if  it 
isn't  overcrowded.  For  instance,  Mr.  Swinburne's  similes  are 
laid  on  too  thick  sometimes.  There  is  a  verse  of  his,  which, 
with  all  my  admiration  for  him,  I  never  could  quite  fathom. 
It  is  where  he  earnestly  desires  to  be  as  'any  leaf  of  any 
tree;'  or,  failing  that,  he  wouldn't  mind  becoming  'as  bones 
under  the  deep,  sharp  sea.'  I  tried  hard  to  see  the  point  of 
that,  but  couldn't  fix  it." 

We  all  laughed.  Zara,  I  thought,  was  especially  merry, 
and  looked  her  loveliest.  She  made  an  excellent  hostess,  and 
exerted  herself  to  the  utmost  to  charm — an  effort  in  which 
she  easily  succeeded. 

The  shadow  on  the  face  of  her  brother  had  not  disappeared, 
and  once  or  tv/ice  I  noticed  that  Father  Paul  looked  at  him 
Avith  a  certain  kindly  anxiety. 

The  dinner  approached  its  end.  The  dessert,  v/ith  its 
luxurious  dishes  of  rare  fruit,  such  as  peaches,  plantains, 
hothouse  grapes,  and  even  strawberries,  was  served,  and  with 
it  a  delicious,  sparkling,  topaz-tinted  wine  of  Eastern  origin 
called  Krula,  which  was  poured  out  to  us  in  Venetian  glass 
goblets,  wherein  lay  diamond-like  lumps  of  ice.  The  air  was 
so  exceedingly  oppressive  that  evening  that  we  found  this 
beverage  most  refreshing.  When  Zara's  goblet  was  filled, 
she  held  it  up  smiling,  and  said: 

"I  have  a  toast  to  propose." 

"Hear,  hear!"  murmured  the  gentlemen,  Ileliobas  ex- 
cepted. 

"To  our  next  merry  meeting!"  and  as  she  said  this  she 
kissed  the  rim  of  the  cup,  and  made  a  sign  as  though  wafting 
it  towards  her  brother. 

He  started  as  if  from  a  reverie,  seized  his  glass,  and  drained 
off  its  contents  to  the  last  drop. 

Everyone  responded  with  heartiness  to  Zara's  toast  and 
then  Colonel  Everard  proposed  the  health  of  the  fair  hostess, 
which  was  drunk  with  enthusiasm. 


198  A  romance;  of  two  worlds. 

After  this  Zara  gave  the  signal,  and  all  the  ladies  rose  to 
adjourn  to  the  drawing-room.  As  I  passed  Heliohas  on  my 
way  ont,  he  looked  so  somber  and  almost  threatening  of 
aspect,  that  I  ventured  to  whisper: 

"Eememher  Azul!" 

"She  has  forgotten  me!"  he  muttered. 

"Never — never!"  I  said  earnestly.  "Oh,  Ileliobas!  what 
is  wrong  with  you?" 

He  made  no  answer,  and  there  was  no  opportunity  to  say 
more,  as  I  had  to  follow  Zara.  But  I  felt  very  anxious, 
though  I  scarcely  knew  why,  and  I  lingered  at  the  door  and 
glanced  hack  at  him.  As  I  did  so,  a  low,  rumbling  sound, 
like  chariot-wheels  rolling  afar  off,  broke  suddenly  on  our 
ears. 

"Thunder,"  remarked  Mr.  Challoner  quietly.  "I  thought 
we  should  have  it.  It  has  been  unnaturally  warm  all  day. 
A  good  storm  will  clear  the  air." 

In  my  brief  backward  look  at  Heliohas,  I  noted  that  when 
that  far-distant  thunder  sounded,  he  grew  very  pale.  Why? 
He  was  certainly  not  one  i«  have  any  dread  of  a  storm — he 
was  absolutely  destitute  of  fear.  I  went  into  the  drawing- 
room  with  a  hesitating  step — my  instincts  were  all  awake 
and  beginning  to  warn  me,  and  I  murmured  softly  a  prayer 
to  that  strong,  invisible,  majestic  spirit  which  I  knew  must 
be  near  me — my  guardian  Angel.  I  was  answered  instantly 
— my  foreboding  grew  into  a  positive  certainty  that  some 
danger  menaced  Heliohas,  and  that  if  I  desired  to  be  his 
friend,  I  must  be  prepared  for  an  emergency.  Eeceiving  this, 
as  all  such  impressions  should  be  received,  as  a  direct  mes- 
eage  sent  me  for  my  guidance,  I  grew  calmer,  and  braced 
up  my  energies  to  oppose  something,  though  I  knew  not 
what. 

Zara  was  showing  her  lady-visitors  a  large  album  of  Italian 
photographs,  and  explaining  them  as  she  turned  the  leaves. 
As  I  entered  the  room,  she  said  eagerly  to  me: 

"Play  to  us,  dear!  Something  soft  and  plaintive.  "We 
all  delight  in  your  music,  you  know." 

"Did  you  hear  the  thunder  just  now?"  I  asked  irrele- 
vantly. 

"It  was  thunder!  I  thought  so!"  said  Mrs.  Everard.  "Oh, 
I  do  hope  there  is  not  going  to  be  a  storm!  I  am  so  afrai'l 
of  a  storm!" 


A  ROMANCE  CF  TWO  WORLDS.  199 

"Yoli  arc  nervous?"  questioned  Zara  kindly,  as  she  en- 
gaged her  attention  with  some  very  fine  specimens  among 
.the  photographs,  consisting  of  vibtvs  from  Venice. 

"Well,  "l  suppose  I  am,"  returned  Amy,  half  laughing. 
"Yet  I  am  plucky  about  most  things,  too.  Still  I  don't  like 
to  hear  the  elements  quarreling  together — they  are  too  much 
in  earnest  about  it — and  no  person  can  pacify  them." 

Zara  smiled,  and  gently  repeated  her  request  to  me  for 
some  music — a  request  in  which  ]\Irs.  Challoner  and  her 
daughters  eagerly  joined.  xVs  I  went  to  the  piano  I  thought 
of  Edgar  Allan  Poe's  exquisite  poem: 

"In  Heaven  a  spirit  doth  dwell, 

Whose  heart-strings  are  a  lute; 
None  sing  so  wildly  well 
As  the  angel  Israfel, 
And  the  giddy  stars,  so  legends  tell, 
Ceasing  their  hymns,  attend  the  spell 

Of  his  voice — all  mute." 

As  I  poised  my  fingers  above  the  keys  of  the  instrument, 
another  long,  low,  ominous  roll  of  thunder  swept  up  from 
the  distance  and  made  the  room  tremble. 

"Play — play,  for  goodness'  sake!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Everard; 
"and  then  we  shall  not  be  obliged  to  fix  our  attention  on 
the  approaching  storm!" 

I  played  a  few  soft  ppening  arpeggio  passages,  while  Zara 
seated  herself  in  an  easy-chair  near  the  window,  and  the  other 
ladies  arranged  themselves  on  sofas  and  ottomans  to  their 
satisfaction.  The  room  was  exceedingly  close:  and  the  scent 
of  the  flowers  that  were  placed  about  in  profusion  was  almost 
too  sweet  and  overpowering. 

"And  they  say  (the  starry  choir 
And  the  other  listening  things) 

That  Israfeli's  fire 

Is  owing  to  that  lyre, 

By  which  he  sits  and  sings, — 

The  trembling  living  wire 
Of  those  unusual  strings." 

How  these  verses  haunted  me!  With  them  floating  in  my 
mind,  I  played — losing  myself  in  mazes  of  melody,  and  travel- 
ing harmoniously  in  and  out  of  the  difl'erent  keys  with  that 
sense  of  perfect  joy  known  only  to  those  who  can  improvise 


200  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

with  ease,  and  cateli  the  unwritten  music  of  nature,  which 
always  appeals  most  strongly  to  emotions  that  are  unspoiled 
by  contact  with  the  world,  and  which  are  quick  to  respond 
to  what  is  purely  instinctive  art.  I  soon  became  thoroughly  • 
absorbed,  and  forgot  that  there  were  any  persons  present. 
In  fancy  I  imagined  myself  again  in  view  of  the  glory  of 
the  Electric  Eing — again  I  seemed  to  behold  the  opaline 
radiance  of  the  Central  Sphere: 

"Where  Love's  a  grown-up  God, 
Where  the  Houri  glances  are 
Imbued  with  all  the  beauty 
Which  we  worship  in  a  star." 

By-and-by  I  found  my  fingers  at  the  work  of  tenderly  un- 
raveling a  little  skein  of  major  melody,  as  soft  and  childlike 
as  the  innocent  babble  of  a  small  brooklet  flowing  under 
ferns.  I  followed  this  airy  suggestion  obediently,  till  it  led 
me  of  itself  to  its  fitting  end,  when  I  ceased  playing.  I  was 
greeted  by  a  little  burst  of  applause,  and  looking  up,  saw 
that  all  the  gentlemen  had  come  in  from  the  dining-room, 
and  were  standing  near  me.  The  stately  figure  of  Heliobas 
was  the  most  prominent  in  the  group;  he  stood  erect,  one 
hand  resting  lightly  on  the  framework  of  the  piano,  and  his 
eyes  met  mine  fixedly. 

"You  were  inspired,"  he  said  with  a  grave  smile,  address- 
ing me;  "you  did  not  observe  our  entrance." 

I  was  about  to  reply,  when  a  loud,  appalling  crash  of  thun- 
der rattled  above  us,  as  if  some  huge  building  had  suddenly 
fallen  into  ruins.  It  startled  us  all  into  silence  for  a  moment, 
and  we  looked  into  each  other's  faces  with  a  certain  degree 
of  awe. 

"That  was  a  good  one,"  remarked  Mr.  Challoner.  "There 
was  nothing  undecided  about  that  clap.  Its  mind  was 
made  up." 

Zara  suddenly  rose  from  her  scat,  and  drew  aside  the  win- 
dow-curtains. 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  raining,"  she  said. 

Amy  Everard  uttered  a  little  shriek  of  dismay. 

"Oh,  don't  open  the  blinds!"  she  exclaimed.  "It  is  really 
dangerous!" 

Heliobas  glanced  at  her  with  a  little  sarcastic  smile. 

"Take  a  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  if  you  are 


A   ROMANCE    OP    TWO    WORLDS,  201 

alarmed,  madame/'  he  said  quietly,  placing  a  eliair  in  the 
position  he  suggested,  which  Amy  accepted  eagerly. 

She  would,  I  believe,  have  gladly  taken  refuge  in  the  coal- 
cellar  had  he  offered  it.  Zara,  in  the  meantime,  who  had  not 
heard  Mrs.  Everard's  exclamation  of  fear,  had  drawn  up  one 
of  the  blinds,  and  stood  silently  looking  out  upon  the  night. 
Instinctively  we  all  joined  her,  with  the  exception  of  Amy, 
and  looked  out  also.  The  skies  were  very  dark;  a  faint 
moaning  wind  stirred  the  tops  of  the  leafless  trees;  but  there 
was  no  rain.  A  dry  volcanic  heat  pervaded  the  atmosphere 
— in  fact  we  all  felt  the  air  so  stifling,  that  Heliobas  threw 
open  the  window  altogether,  saying,  as  he  did  so: 

"In  a  thunderstorm,  it  is  safer  to  have  the  windows  open 
than  shut;    besides,  one  cannot  sufl^oeate." 

A  brilliant  glare  of  light  flashed  suddenly  upon  our  vision. 
The  heavens  seemed  torn  open  from  end  to  end,  and  a  broad 
lake  of  pale  blue  fire  lay  quivering  in  the  heart  of  the  moun- 
tainous black  clouds — for  a  second  only.  An  on-rushing, 
ever-increasing,  rattling  roar  of  thunder  ensued,  that  seemed 
to  shake  the  very  earth,  and  all  was  again  darkness. 

"This  is  magnificent!"  cried  Mrs.  Challoner,  w^ho,  with 
her  family,  had  traveled  a  great  deal,  and  was  quite  accus- 
tomed to  hurricanes  and  other  inconveniences  caused  by  the 
unaccommodating  behavior  of  the  elements.  "I  don't  think 
I  ever  saw  anything  like  it,  John  dear,  even  that  storm  we 
saw  at  Chamounix  was  not  any  better  than  this." 

"Well,"  returned  her  husband  meditatively,  "you  see  we 
had  the  snow  mountains  there,  and  the  effect  was  pretty 
lively.  Then  there  were  the  echoes — those  cavernous  echoes 
were  grand!  What  was  that  passage  in  Job,  Effie,  that  I 
used  to  say  they  reminded  me  of?" 

"  'The  pillars  of  heaven  tremble,  and  are  astonished  at 
His  reproof  .  .  .  The  thunder  of  His  power,  who  can 
understand?' "  replied  Effie  Challoner  reverently. 

"That's  it!"  he  replied.  "I  opine  that  Job  was  pretty 
correct  in  his  ideas — don't  you,  reverend  sir?"  turning  to 
Father  Paul. 

The  priest  nodded,  and  held  up  his  finger  warningly. 

"That  lady — Mrs.  Everard — is  going  to  sing  or  play,  I 
think,"  he  observed.     "Shall  we  not  keep  silence?" 

I  looked  towards  Amy  in  some  surprise.  I  knew  she  sang 
very  prettily,  but  I  had  thought  she  was  rendered  too  nervous 


202  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

by  the  storm  to  do  auglit  but  sit  quiet  in  her  chair.  How- 
ever, there  she  was  at  the  piano,  and  in  another  moment 
her  fresh,  sweet  mezzo-soprano  rang  softly  through  the  room 
in  Tosti's  plaintive  song,  "Good-bye!"  We  listened,  but  none- 
of  us  moved  from  the  open  window  where  we  still  inhaled 
what  air  there  was,  and  watched  the  lowering  sky. 

"Hush!  a  voice  from  the  far-aw3.y, 
'Listen  and  learn,'  it  seems  to  say; 
'All  the  to-morrows  shall  be  as  to-day,'  " 

sang  Amy  with  pathetic  sweetness.  Zara  suddenly  moved, 
as  if  oppressed,  from  her  position  among  us  as  we  stood  clus- 
tered together,  and  stepped  out  through  the  French  window 
into  the  outside  balcoay,  her  head  uncovered  to  the  night. 

"You  will  catch  cold!"  Mrs.  Challoner  and  I  both  called 
to  her  simultaneously.  She  shook  her  head,  smiling  back 
at  us;  and  folding  her  arms  lightly  on  the  stone  balustrade, 
leaned  there  and  looked  up  at  the  clouds. 

"The  link  must  break,  and  the  lamp  must  die; 
Good-bye  to  Hope!    Good-bye — good-bye!" 

Amy's  voice  was  a  peculiarly  thrilling  one,  and  on  this 
occasion  sounded  with  more  than  its  usual  tenderness.  What 
with  her  singing  and  the  invisible  presence  of  the  storm,  an 
utter  silence  possessed  us — not  one  of  us  cared  to  move. 

Heliobas  once  stepped  to  his  sister's  side  in  the  open  bal- 
cony, and  said  something,  as  I  thought,  to  warn  her  against 
iaking  cold;  but  it  was  a  very  brief  whisper,  and  he  almost 
immediately  returned  to  his  place  amongst  us.  Zara  looked 
very  lovely  out  there;  the  light  coming  from  the  interior  of 
the  room  glistened  softly  on  the  sheen  of  her  satin  dress 
and  its  ornaments  of  pearls;  and  the  electric  stone  on  her 
bosom  shone  faintly,  like  a  star  on  a  rainy  evening.  Her 
beautiful  face,  turned  upwards  to  the  angry  sky,  was  half  in 
light  and  half  in  shade;  a  smile"'  parted  her  lips,  and  her 
eyes  were  bright  with  a  look  of  interest  and  expectancy.  An- 
other sudden  glare,  and  the  clouds  were  again  broken  asun- 
der; but  this  time  in  a  jagged  and  hasty  manner,  as  though 
a  naked  sword  had  been  thrust  through  them  and  imme- 
diately withdrawn. 

"That  was  a  nasty  flash,"  said  Colonel  Everard,  with  an 
observant  glance  at  the  lovely  Juliet-like  figure  on  the  bal- 
cony.    "Mademoiselle,  had  you  not  better  come  in?" 


A   ROMANCE   OF    TWO   WORLDS.  203 

''When  it  begins  to  rain  I  will  come  in,"  she  said,  without 
clianging  her  posture.  "I  hear  the  singing  so  well  out  here. 
Besides,  I  love  the  storm." 

A  tumultuous  crash  of  thunder,  tremendous  for  its  uproar 
and  the  length  of  time  it  was  prolonged,  made  us  look  at 
each  other  again  with  anxious  faces. 

"What  are  we  waiting  for?    Oh,  my  heart! 
Kiss  me  straight  on  the  brows  and  part! 
Again!  again,  my  heart,  my  heart! 
What  are  we  waiting  for,  you  and  I? 
A  pleading  look — a  stifled  cry! 
Good-bye  for  ever " 

Horror!  what  was  that?  A  lithe  swift  serpent  of  fire 
twisting  venomously  through  the  dark  heavens!  Zara  raised 
her  arms,  looked  up,  smiled,  and  fell — senseless!  With  such 
appalling  suddenness  that  we  had  scarcely  recovered  from 
the  blinding  terror  of  that  forked  lightning-flash,  when  we 
saw  her  lying  prone  before  us  on  the  balcony  where  one 
instant  before  she  had  stood  erect  and  smiling!  "With  ex- 
clamations of  alarm  and  distress  we  lifted  and  bore  her  within 
the  room  and  laid  her  tenderly  down  upon  the  nearest  sofa. 
At  that  moment  a  deafening,  terrific  thunder-clap — one  only 
—as  if  a  huge  bombshell  had  burst  in  the  air,  shook  the 
ground  under  our  feet;  and  then  with  a  swish  and  swirl  of 
long  pent-up  and  suddenly-released  wrath,  down  came  the 
rain. 

Amy's  voice  died  away  in  a  last  "Good-bye!"  and  she 
rushed  from  the  piano,  with  pale  face  and  trembling  lips, 
gasping  out: 

"What  has  happened?    What  is  the  matter?" 

"She  has  been  stunned  by  a  lightning-flash,"  I  said,  trying 
to  speak  calmly,  while  I  loosened  Zara's  dress  and  sprinkled 
her  forehead  with  eau-de-Cologne  from  a  scent-bottle  Mrs. 
Challoner  had  handed  to  me.  "She  will  recover  in  a  few 
minutes." 

But  my  limbs  trembled  under  me,  and  tears,  in  spite  of 
myself,  forced  their  way  into  my  eyes. 

Heliobas  meanwhile — his  countenance  white  and  set  as  a 
marble  mask — shut  the  window  fiercely,  pulled  down  the 
blind,  and  drew  the  heavy  silken  curtains  close.  He  then 
approached  his  sister's  senseless  form,  and,  taking  her  wrist 
tenderly,  felt  for  her  pulse.     We  looked  on  in  the  deepest 


204  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

anxiety.  The  Challoner  girls  shivered  with  terror,  and  "began 
to  cry.  Mrs.  Everard,  with  more  self-possession,  dipped  a 
handkerchief  in  cold  water  and  laid  it  on  Zara's  temples; 
but  no  faint  sigh  parted  the  set  yet  smiling  lips — no  sign- 
of  life  was  visible.  All  this  while  the  rain  swept  down  in 
gusty  torrents  and  rattled  furiously  against  the  window-panes; 
while  the  wind,  no  longer  a  moan,  had  risen  into  a  shriek, 
as  of  baffled  yet  vindictive  anger.    At  last  Heliobas  spoke. 

"I  should  be  glad  of  other  medical  skill  than  my  own," 
he  said,  in  low  and  stifled  accents.  "This  may  be  a  long 
fainting-fit." 

Mr.  Challoner  at  once  proffered  his  services. 

"I'll  go  for  you  anywhere  you  like,"  he  said  cheerily;  "and 
I  think  my  wife  and  daughters  had  better  come  with  me. 
Our  carriage  is  sure  to  be  in  waiting.  It  will  be  necessary 
for  the  lady  to  have  perfect  quiet  when  she  recovers,  and 
visitors  are  best  away.  You  need  not  be  alarmed,  I  am  sure. 
By  her  color  it  is  evident  she  is  only  in  a  swoon.  What  doctor 
shall  I  send?" 

Heliobas  named  one  Dr.  Morini,  10,  Avenue  de  I'Alma. 

"Eight!  He  shall  be  here  straight.  Come,  wife — come, 
girls!  Mrs.  Everard,  we'll  send  back  our  carriage  for  you 
and  the  Colonel.  Good-night!  We'll  call  to-morrow  and 
inquire  after  mademoiselle." 

Heliobas  gratefully  pressed  his  hand  as  he  withdrew,  and 
his  wife  and  daughters,  with  whispered  farewells,  followed 
him.  We  who  were  left  behind  all  remained  near  Zara,  doing 
everything  we  could  think  of  to  restore  animation  to  that 
senseless  form. 

Some  of  the  servants,  too,  hearing  what  had  happened, 
gathered  in  a  little  cluster  at  the  drawing-room  door,  looking 
with  pale  and  alarmed  faces  at  the  death-like  figure  of  their 
beautiful  mistress.  Half  an  hour  or  more  must  have  passed 
in  this  manner;  within  the  room  there  was  a  dreadful  silence 
— but  outside  the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents,  and  the 
savage  wind  howled  and  tore  at  the  windows  like  a  besieging 
army.  Suddenly  Amy  Everard,  who  had  been  quietly  and 
skillfully  assisting  me  in  rubbing  Zara's  hands  and  bathing 
her  forehead,  grew  faint,  staggered,  and  would  have  fallen 
had  not  her  husband  caught  her  on  his  arm. 

"I  am  frightened,"  she  gasped.  "I  cannot  bear  it — she 
looks  so  still,  and  she  is  growing — rigid,  like  a  corpse!    Oh, 


A   ROMANCE   OP   TWO   WORLDS.  205 

if  she  should  be  dead!"  And  she  hid  her  face  on  her  hus- 
band's breast. 

At  that  moment  we  heard  the  grating  of  wheels  on  the 
gravel  outside;  it  was  the  Challoners'  carriage  returned.  The 
coachman,  after  depositing  liis  master  and  family  at  the 
Grand  Hotel,  had  driven  rapidly  back  in  the  teeth  of  the 
stinging  sleet  and  rain  to  bring  the  message  that  Dr.  Morini 
would  be  with  us  as  soon  as  possible. 

"Then,"  whispered  Colonel  Everard  gently  to  me,  "I'll 
take  Amy  home.  She  is  thoroughly  upset,  and  it's  no  use 
having  her  going  off  into  hysterics.  I'll  call  with  Challoner 
to-morrow;"  and  with  a  kindly  parting  nod  of  encourage- 
ment to  us  all,  he  slipped  softly  out  of  the  room,  half  lead- 
ing, half  carrying  his  trembling  wife;  and  in  a  couple  of 
minutes  we  heard  _the  carriage  again  drive  away. 

Left  alone  at  last  with  Heliobas  and  Father  Paul,  I,  kneel- 
ing at  the  side  of  my  darling  Zara,  looked  into  their  faces 
for  comfort,  but  found  none.  The  dry-eyed  despair  on  the 
countenance  of  Heliobas  pierced  me  to  the  heart;  the  pity- 
ing, solemn  expression  of  the  venerable  priest  touched  me 
as  with  icy  cold.  The  lovely,  marble-like  whiteness  and  still- 
ness of  the  figure  before  me  filled  me  with  a  vague  terror. 
flaking  a  strong  effort  to  control  my  voice,  I  called  in  a  low, 
clear  tone: 

"Zara!     Zara!" 

ISTo  sign — not  the  faintest  flicker  of  an  eye-lash!  Only 
the  sound  of  the  falling  rain  and  the  moaning  wind — the 
thunder  had  long  ago  ceased.  Suddenly  a  something  attracted 
my  gaze,  which  first  surprised  and  then  horrified  me.  The 
jewel — the  electric  stone  on  Zara's  bosom  no  longer  shone! 
It  was  like  a  piece  of  dull  unpolished  pebble.  Grasping  at  the 
meaning  of  this,  with  overwhelming  instinctive  rapidity,  I 
sprang  up  and  caught  the  arm  of  Heliobas. 

"You — ^you!"  I  whispered  hurriedly.  "You  can  restore 
her!  Do  as  you  did  with  Prince  Ivan;  you  can — you  must! 
That  stone  she  wears — the  light  has  gone  out  of  it.  If  that 
means — and  I  am  sure  it  does — that  life  has  for  a  little  while 
gone  out  of  her,  you  can  bring  it  back.  Quick — Quick!  You 
have  the  power!" 

He  looked  at  me  with  burning  grief-haunted  eyes;  and  a 
sigh  that  was  almost  a  groan  escaped  his  lips. 

''I  have  no  power/'  he  said,    "Not  over  her,    I  told  you 


206  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

she  was  dominated  by  a  higher  force  than  mine.  What  can 
I  do?    Nothing — worse  than  nothing — I  am  utterly  helpless." 

I  stared  at  him  in  a  kind  of  desperate  horror. 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  I  said  slowly,  "that  she  is  dead 
— really  dead?" 

He  was  about  to  answer,  when  one  of  the  watching  servants 
announced  in  a  low  tone:    "Dr.  Morini." 

The  new-comer  was  a  wiry,  keen-eyed  little  Italian;  his 
movements  were  quick,  decisive,  and  all  to  the  point  of  action. 
The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  scatter  the  little  group  of  ser- 
vants right  and  left,  and  send  them  about  their  business. 
The  next,  to  close  the  doors  of  the  room  against  all  intru- 
sion. He  then  came  straight  up  to  Heliobas,  and  pressing 
his  hand  in  a  friendly  manner,  said  briefly: 

"How  and  when  did  this  happen?" 

Heliobas  told  him  in  as  few  words  as  possible.  Dr.  Morini 
then  bent  over  Zara's  lifeless  form,  and  examined  her  features 
attentively.  He  laid  his  ear  against  her  heart  and  listened. 
Finally,  he  caught  sight  of  the  round,  lustreless  pebble  hang- 
ing at  her  neck  suspended  by  its  strings  of  pearls.  Very 
gently  he  moved  this  aside;  looked,  and  beckoned  us  to 
come  and  look  also.  Exactly  on  the  spot  where  the  electric 
stone  had  rested,  a  small  circular  mark,  like  a  black  bruise, 
tainted  the  fair  soft  skin — a  mark  no  larger  than  a  small 
finger-ring. 

"Death  by  electricity,"  said  Dr.  Morini  quietly.  "Must 
have  been  instantaneous.  The  lightning-flash,  or  downward 
electric  current,  lodged  itself  here,  where  this  mark  is,  and 
passed  directly  through  the  heart.  Perfectly  painless,  but  of 
course  fatal.     She  has  been  dead  some  time." 

And,  replacing  the  stone  ornament  in  its  former  position, 
he  stepped  back  with  a  suggestive  glance  at  Father  Paul. 
T  listened  and  saw — but  I  was  in  a  state  of  stupefaction. 
Dead?  My  beautiful,  gay,  strong  Zara  dead?  Impossible! 
I  knelt  beside  her;  I  called  her  again  and  again  by  every 
endearing  and  tender  name  I  could  think  of;  I  kissed  her 
sweet  lips.  Oh,  they  were  cold  as  ice,  and  chilled  my  blood! 
As  one  in  a  dream,  I  saw  Heliobas  advance;  he  kissed  her 
forehead  and  mouth;  he  reverently  unclasped  the  pearls  from 
about  her  throat,  and  with  them  took  ofP  the  electric  stone. 
Then  Father  Paul  stepped  slowly  forward,  and  in  place  of 
that  once  brilliant  gem,  now  so  clim  and  destitute  of  fire, 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  207 

he  laid  a  crucifix  upon  the  fair  and  gentle  hreast,  motionless 
forever. 

At  sight  of  this  sacred  symbol,  some  tense  cord  seemed  to 
snap  in  m}^  brain,  and  I  cried  out  wildl}^: 

"Oh,  no,  no!  Not  that!  That  is  for  the  dead;  Zara  is  not 
dead!  It  is  all  a  mistake — a  mistake!  She  will  be  quite  well 
presently;  and  she  will  smile  and  tell  you  how  foolish  you 
were  to  think  her  dead!  Dead?  She  cannot  be  dead;  it  is 
impossible — quite  impossible!"  And  I  broke  into  a  passion 
of  sobs  and  tears. 

Very  gently  and  kindly  Dr.  Morini  drew  me  away,  and 
by  dint  of  friendly  persuasion,  in  which  there  was  also  a  good 
deal  of  firm  determination,  led  me  into  the  hall,  where  he 
made  me  swallow  a  glass  of  wine.  As  I  could  not  control  my 
sobs,  he  spoke  with  some  sternness: 

"Mademoiselle,  you  can  do  no  good  by  giving  way  in  this 
maimer.  Death  is  a  very  beautiful  and  solemn  thing,  and  it 
is  irreverent  to  show  unseemly  passion  in  such  a  great 
Presence,  rou  loved  your  friend — let  it  be  a  comfort  to 
you  that  she  died  painlessly.  Control  yourself,  in  order  to 
assist  in  rendering  her  the  last  few  gentle  services  necessary; 
and  try  to  console  the  desolate  brother,  who  looks  in  real 
need  of  encouragement." 

These  last  words  roused  me.  I  forced  back  my  tears,  and 
dried  my  eyes. 

"I  will.  Dr.  Morini,"  I  said,  in  a  trembling  voice.  "I  am 
ashamed  to  be  so  weak.  I  know  what  I  ought  to  do,  and  I 
Avill  do  it.    You  may  trust  me." 

He  looked  at  me  approvingly. 

"That  is  well,"  he  said  briefly.  "And  now,  as  I  am  of 
no  use  here,  I  will  say  good-night.  Kemember,  excessive 
grief  is  mere  selfishness;   resignation  is  heroism." 

He  was  gone.  I  nerved  myself  to  the  task  I  had  before 
me,  and  within  an  hour  the  fair  casket  of  what  had  been 
Zara  lay  on  an  open  bier  in  the  little  chapel,  lights  burning 
round  it,  and  flowers  strewn  above  it  in  mournful  profusion. 

We  left  her  body  arrayed  in  its  white  satin  garb;  the 
cluster  of  orange-blossoms  she  had  gathered  still  bloomed 
upon  the  cold  breast,  where  the  crucifix  lay;  but  in  the  tresses 
of  the  long  dark  hair  I  wove  a  wreath  of  lilies  instead  of  the 
pearls  we  had  undone. 

And  now  I  knelt  beside  the  bier  absorbed  in  thought.    Some 


208  A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

of  the  weeping  servants  had  assembled,  and  knelt  about  in 
little  groups.  The  tall  candles  on  the  altar  were  lit,  and 
Father  Paul,  clad  in  mourning  priestly  vestments,  prayed 
there  in  silence.  The  storm  of  rain  and  wind  still  raged, 
without,  and  the  windows  of  the  chapel  shook  and  rattled 
with  the  violence  of  the  tempest. 

A  distant  clock  struck  One!  with  a  deep  clang  that  echoed 
throughout  the  house.  I  shuddered.  So  short  a  time  had 
elapsed  since  Zara  had  been  alive  and  well;  now,  I  could 
not  bear  to  think  that  she  was  gone  from  me  forever.  For- 
ever, did  I  say  ?  Ko,  not  forever — not  so  long  as  love  exists — 
love  that  shall  bring  us  together  again  in  that  far-off  Sphere 
where 

Hush!  what  was  that?  The  sound  of  the  organ?  I  looked 
around  me  in  startled  wonderment.  There  was  no  one  seated 
at  the  instrument;  it  was  shut  close.  The  lights  on  the  altar 
and  round  the  bier  burned  steadily;  the  motionless  figure 
of  the  priest  before  the  tabernacle;  the  praying  servants  of 
the  household — all  was  unchanged.  But  certainly  a  flood  of 
music  rolled  grandly  on  the  ear — music  that  drowned  for  a 
moment  the  liowling  noise  of  the  battering  wind.  I  rose 
softly,  and  touched  one  of  the  kneeling  domestics  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Did  you  hear  the  organ?"  I  said. 

The  woman  looked  up  at  me  witli  tearful,  alarmed  eyes. 

"No,  mademoiselle." 

I  paused,  listening.  The  music  grew  louder  and  louder, 
and  surged  round  me  in  waves  of  melody.  Evidently  no  one 
in  the  chapel  heard  it  but  myself.  I  looked-'  about  for  Helio- 
bas,  but  he  had  not  entered.  He  was  most  probably  in  his 
study,  whither  he  had  retired  to  grieve  in  secret  when  we 
had  borne  Zara's  body  to  its  present  couch  of  dreamless  sleep. 

These  sonnds  were  meant  for  me  alone,  then?  I  waited, 
and  the  music  gradually  died  away;  and  as  I  resumed  my 
kneeling  position  by  the  bier  all  was  again  silence,  save  for 
the  unabated  raging  of  the  stonn. 

A  strange  calmness  now  fell  on  my  spirits.  Some  invisible 
hand  seemed  to  hold  me  still  and  tearless.  Zara  was  dead. 
I  realized  it  now.  I  began  to  consider  that  she  must  have 
known  her  fate  beforehand.  This  was  what  she  had  meant 
when  she  said  she  was  going  on  a  journey.     The  more  I 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS.  209 

thouglit  of  this  the  quieter  I  became^  and  I  hid  my  face  in 
my  hands  and  prayed  earnestly. 

A  touch  roused  me — an  imperative,  burning  touch.  An 
airy  brightness,  hke  a  light  cloud  with  sunshine  falling 
tlirough  it,  hovered  above  Zara's  bier!  I  gazed  breathlessly; 
I  could  not  move  my  lips  to  utter  a  sound.  A  face  looked 
at  me — a  face  angelically  beautiful!  It  smiled.  I  stretched 
out  my  hands;  I  struggled  for  speech,  and  managed  to  whis- 
per: 

"Zara,  Zara!  you  have  come  back!" 
Her  voice,  so  sweetly  familiar,  answered  me: 
"To  life?     Ah,  never,  never  again!     I  am  too  happy  to 
return.     But  save  him — save  my  brother!     Go  to  him;    he 
is  in  danger;    to  you  is  given  the  rescue.     Save  him;    and 
for  me  rejoice,  and  grieve  no  more!" 

The  face  vanished,  the  brightness  faded,  and  I  sprang  up 
from  my  knees  in  haste.  For  one  instant  I  looked  at  the 
beautiful  dead  body  of  the  friend  I  loved,  ^vith  its  set  mouth 
and  placid  features,  and  then  I  smiled.  This  was  not  Zara — 
she  was  alive  and  happy;  this  fair  clay  was  but  clay  doomed 
to  perish,  but  she  was  imperishable. 

''Save  him — save  my  brother!"  These  words  rang  in  my 
ears.  I  hesitated  no  longer — I  determined  to  seek  Heliobas 
at  once.  Swiftly  and  noiselessly  I  slipped  out  of  the  chapel. 
As  the  door  swung  behind  m,e  I  heard  a  sound  that  first 
made  me  stop  in  sudden  alarm,  and  then  hurry  on  with  in- 
creased eagerness.  There  was  no  mistaking  it — it  was  the 
clash  of  steel! 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A  STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  MASTERY. 

I  rushed  to  the  stud3'-door,  tore  aside  the  velvet  hangings, 
and  faced  Heliobas  and  Prince  Ivan  Petroffsky.  They  held 
drawn  weapons,  which  they  lowered  at  my  sudden  entrance, 
and  paused  irresolutely. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  I  cried,  addressing  myself  to  Helio- 
bas. ''AYith  the  dead  body  of  your  sister  in  the  house  you 
can  fight!  You,  too^"  and  I  looked  reproachfully  at  Prince 
Ivan;  "vou  also  can  desecrate  the  sanctity  of  death,  and  yet — 
you  loved  her!" 
u 


210  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

The  Prince  spoke  not,  but  clenched  liis  sword-hilt  with 
a  fiercer  grasp,  and  glared  wildly  on  his  opponent.  His  eyes 
had  a  look  of  madness  in  them — his  dress  was  much  dis- 
ordered— his  hair  wet  with  drops  of  rain — his  face  ghasth" 
white,  and  his  whole  demeanor  was  that  of  a  man  distraught 
with  grief  and  passion.  But  he  uttered  no  word.  Heliobas 
spoke;  he  was  coldly  calm,  and  balanced  his  sword  lightly 
on  his  open  hand  as  if  it  were  a  toy. 

"This  gentleman,"  he  said,  with  deliberate  emphasis,  "hap- 
pened, on  his  way  thither,  to  meet  Dr.  Morini,  who  informed 
him  of  the  fatal  catastrophe  which  has  caused  my  sister's 
death.  Instead  of  respecting  the  sacredness  of  my  solitude 
under  the  circumstances,  he  thrust  himself  rudely  into  my 
presence,  and,  before  I  could  address  him,  struck  me  violently 
in  the  face,  and  accused  me  of  being  my  sister's  murderer. 
Such  conduct  can  only  meet  with  one  reply.  I  gave  him  his 
choice  of  weapons:  he  chose  swords.  Our  combat  has  just 
begun — we  are  anxious  to  resume  it;  therefore  if  you,  made- 
moiselle, will  have  the  goodness  to  retire " 

I  interrupted  him. 

"I  shall  certainly  not  retire,"  I  said  firmly.  "This  be- 
havior on  both  your  parts  is  positive  madness.  Prince  Ivan, 
please  to  listen  to  me.  The  circumstances  of  Zara's  death 
were  plainly  witnessed  by  me  and  others — her  brother  is  as 
innocent  of  haA'ing  caused  it  as  I  am." 

And  I  recounted  to  him  quietly  all  that  had  happened 
during  that  fatal  and  eventful  evening.  He  listened  moodily, 
tracing  out  the  pattern  of  the  carpet  with  the  point  of  his 
sword.  When  I  had  finished  he  looked  up,  and  a  bitter  smile 
crossed  his  features. 

"I  wonder,  mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "that  your  residence 
in  this  accursed  house  has  not  taught  you  better.  I  quite 
believe  all  you  say,  that  Zara,  unfortunate  girl  that  she  was, 
received  her  death  by  a  lightning-flash.  But  answer  me  this: 
Who  made  her  capable  of  attracting  atmospheric  electricity? 
Who  charged  her  beautiful  delicate  body  with  a  vile  com- 
Ijound  of  electrical  fluid,  so  that  she  was  a  living  magnet, 
bound  to  draw  towards  lierself  electricity  in  all  its  forms? 
Who  tampered  with  her  fine  brain  and  made  her  imagine 
herself  allied  to  a  spirit  of  air?  Who  but  he — he! — yonder 
uneerapulous  wretch! — he  who  in  pursuit  of  his  miserable 
science,   practiced  his  most  dangeroiis   exp'erimfents   on   his 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  211 

sister,  regardless  of  her  health,  her  happiness,  her  lifel  I 
say  he  is  her  murderer — her  remorseless  murderer,  and  a 
thrice-damned  villain!" 

And  he  sprang  forward  to  renew  the  combat.  I  stepped 
quietly,  unfUnchingly  between  him  and  Heliobas. 

•'Stop!"  I  exclaimed;  "this  cannot  go  on.  Zara  herself 
forbids  it!" 

The  Prince  paused,  and  looked  at  me  in  a  sort  of  stupe- 
faction. 

''Zara  forbids  it!"  he  muttered,     "What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean,"  I  went  on,  "that  I  have  seen  Zara  since  her 
death;   I  have  spoken  to  her.     She  herself  sent  me  here." 

Prince  Ivan  stared,  and  then  burst  into  a  fit  of  wild  laugh- 
ter. 

"Little  fool!"  he  cried  to  me;  "he  has  maddened  you,  too, 
then!  You  are  also  a  victim!  Miserable  girl!  out  of  my 
path!    Eevenge — revenge!   while  I  am  yet  sane!" 

Then  pushing  me  roughly  aside,  he  cast  away  his  sword, 
and  shouted  to  Heliobas: 

"Hand  to  hand,  villain!  No  more  of  these  toy-weapons! 
Hand  to  hand!" 

Heliobas  instantly  threw  down  his  sword  also,  and  rushing 
forward  simultaneously,  they  closed  together  in  savage  eon- 
tiict.  Heliobas  was  the  taller  and  more  powerful  of  the  two, 
but  Prince  Ivan  seemed  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  a  hundred 
devils,  and  sprang  at  his  opponent's  throat  with  the  silent 
breathless  ferocity  of  a  tiger.  At  first  Heliobas  appeared  to 
be  simply  on  the  defensive,  and  his  agile,  skillful  movements 
were  all  used  to  parry  and  v^ard  off  the  other's  grappling 
eagerness.  But  as  I  watched  the  struggle,  myself  speechless 
and  powerless,  I  saw  his  face  change.  Instead  of  its  calm 
and  almost  indift'erent  expression,  there  came  a  look  which 
was  completely  foreign  to  it — a  look  of  savage  detennination 
bordering  on  positive  cruelty.  In  a  moment  I  saw  what  was 
taking  place  in  his  mind.  The  animal  passions  of  the  mere 
man  were  aroused — the  spiritual  force  was  utterly  forgotten. 
The  excitement  of  the  contest  was  beginning  to  tell,  and 
the  desire  of  victory  was  dominant  in  the  breast  of  him 
whose  ideas  were  generall}- — and  should  have  been  now — 
those  of  patient  endurance  and  large  generosity.  The  fight 
grew  closer,  hotter,  and  more  terrible.  Suddenly  the  Prince 
swerved  aside  and  fell,  and  within  a  second  Heliobas  held 


212  A   ROMIANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

him  down,  pressing  one  knee  firmly  against  his  chest.  From 
my  point  of  observation  I  noted  with  alarm  that  little  by 
little  Ivan  ceased  his  violent  efforts  to  rise,  and  that  he  kept 
his  eyes  fixed  on  the  overshadowing  face  of  his  foe  with* 
an  unnatural  and  curious  pertinacity.  I  stepped  forward. 
Heliobas  pressed  his  whole  weight  heavily  down  on  the  young 
man's  prostrate  body,  while  with  both  hands  he  held  him  by 
the  shoulders,  and  gazed  with  terrific  meaning  into  his  fast- 
paling  countenance.  Ivan's  lips  turned  blue;  liis  eyes  ap- 
peared to  start  from  their  sockets;  his  throat  rattled.  The 
spell  that  held  me  silent  was  broken;  a  flash  of  light,  a  flood 
of  memory  swept  over  my  intelligence.  I  knew  that  Heliobas 
was  exciting  the  whole  battery  of  his  inner  electric  force,  and 
that  thus  employed  for  the  purposes  of  vengeance,  it  must 
infallibly  cause  death.    I  found  my  speech  at  last. 

"Heliobas!"  I  cried.  "Eemember,  remember  Azul!  When 
Death  lies  like  a  gift  in  your  hand,  withhold  it.  Withhold  it, 
Hehobas;    and  give  Life  instead!" 

He  started  at  the  sound  of  my  voice,  and  looked  up.  A 
strong  shudder  shook  his  frame.  Very  slowly,  very  reluc- 
tantly, he  relaxed  his  position;  he  rose  from  his  kneeling 
posture  on  the  Prince's  breast — ^he  left  him  and  stood  up- 
right. Ivan  at  the  same  moment  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and 
closed  his  eyes,  apparently  insensible. 

Gradually  one  by  one  the  hard  lines  faded  out  of  the  face 
of  Heliobas,  and  his  old  expression  of  soft  and  grave  benefi- 
cence came  back  to  it  as  graciously  as  sunlight  after  rain. 
He  turned  to  me,  and  bent  his  head  in  a  sort  of  reverential 
salutation, 

"I  thank  and  bless  you,"  he  said;  "you  reminded  me  in 
time!  Another  moment  and  it  would  have  been  too  late. 
You  have  saved  me." 

"Give  him  his  life,"  I  said,  pointing  to  Ivan. 

"He  has  it,"  returned  Heliobas;  "I  have  not  taken  it  from 
him,  thank  God!  He  provoked  me;  I  regret  it.  I  should 
have  been  more  patient  with  him.  He  will  revive  imme- 
diately. I  leave  him  to  your  care.  In  dealing  with  him,  I 
ought  to  have  remembered  that  human  passion  like  his,  un- 
guided  by  spiritual  knowledge,  was  to  be  met  with  pity  and 
forbearance.  As  it  is,  however,  he  is  safe.  For  me,  I  will 
go  and  pray  for  Zara's  pardon,  and  that  of  my  wronged 
Azul." 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  21;i 

As  lie  uttered  the  last  words,  he  started,  looked  up,  and 
smiled. 

'"'My  beautiful  one!  Thou  hast  pardoned  me?  Thou  wilt 
love  me  still?  Thou  art  with  me,  Azul,  my  beloved?  I  have 
not  lost  thee,  oh  my  best  and  dearest!  Wilt  thou  lead  nic? 
Whither?    Nay — no  matter  whither — I  come!" 

And  as  one  walking  in  sleep,  he  went  out  of  the  room, 
and  I  heard  his  footsteps  echoing  in  the  distance  on  the  way 
to  the  chapel. 

Left  alone  with  the  Prince,  I  snatched  a  glass  of  cold  water 
from  the  table,  and  sprinkled  some  of  it  on  his  forehead  and 
hands.  This  was  quite  sufficient  to  revive  him;  and  he  drew 
a  long  breath,  opened  his  eyes,  and  stared  wildly  about  him. 
Seeing  no  one  but  me  he  grew  bewildered,  and  asked: 

"What  has  happened?" 

Then  catching  sight  of  the  drawn  swords  lying  still  on 
the  ground  where  they  had  been  thrown,  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  and  cried: 

'^here  is  the  coward  and  murderer?" 

I  made  him  sit  down  and -hear  with  patience  what  I  had 
to  say.  I  reminded  him  that  Zara's  health  and  happiness  had 
always  been  perfect,  and  that  her  brother  would  rather  have 
slain  himself  than  her.  I  told  him  plainly  that  Zara  had 
expected  her  death,  and  had  prepared  for  it — had  even  bade 
me  good-bye,  although  then  I  had  not  understood  the  meaning 
of  her  words.  I  recalled  to  his  mind  the  day  when  Zara  had 
used  her  power  to  repulse  him. 

"Disbelieve  as  you  will  in  electric  spiritual  force,"  I  said. 
"Your  message  to  her  then  through  me  was — Tell  her  I  have 
seen  her  lover." 

At  these  words  a  sombre  shadow  flitted  over  the  Prince's 
face. 

"I  tell  you,"  he  said  slowly,  "that  I  believe  I  was  on  that 
occasion  the  victim  of  an  hallucination.  But  I  will  explain 
to  you  what  I  saw.  A  superb  figure,  like,  and  yet  unlike, 
a  man,  but  of  a  much  larger  and  grander  form,  appeared  to 
me,  as  I  thought,  and  spoke.  'Zara  is  mine,'  it  said — 'mine 
by  choice;  mine  by  freewill;  mine  till  death;  mine  after 
death;  mine  through  eternity.  With  her  thou  hast  naught 
in  common;  thy  way  lies  elsewhere.  Follow  the  path  allotted 
to  thee,  and  presume  no  more  upon  an  angel's  patience.' 
Then  this  strange  majestic-looking  creature,  whose  face,  as  I 


2U  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

remember  it,  was  extraordinarily  beautiful,  and  whose  eyes 
were  like  self-luminons  stars,  vanished.  But,  after  all,  what 
of  it?    The  whole  thing  was  a  dream." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  I  said  quietly.  "But,  Prince 
Ivan,  now  that  you  are  calmer  and  more  capable  of  resigna- 
tion, will  you  tell  me  why  you  loved  Zara?" 

"Wliv!"  he  broke  out  impetuously.  "Why,  because  it  was 
impossible  to  help  loving  her." 

"That  is  no  answer,"  I  replied.  "Think!  You  can  reason 
well  if  you  like — I  have  heard  you  hold  your  own  in  an  argu- 
ment.    What  made  you  love  Zara?" 

He  looked  at  me  in  a  sort  of  impatient  surprise,  but  seeing 
I  was  very  much  in  earnest,  he  pondered  a  minute  or  so  be- 
fore replying. 

"She  was  the  loveliest  Avoman  I  have  ever  seen!"  he  said 
at  last,  and  in  his  voice  tliere  was  a  sound  of  yearning  and 
regret. 

"Is  that  all?"  I  queried,  with  a  gesture  of  contempt.  "Be- 
cause her  body  was  beautiful — because  she  had  sweet  kissing 
lips  and  a  soft  skin;  because  her  hand  was  like  a  white 
tiower,  and  her  dark  hair  clustering  over  her  brow  reminded 
one  of  a  misty  evening  cloud  hiding  moonlight;  because  the 
glance  of  her  glorious  eyes  made  the  blood  leap  through 
your  veins  and  sting  you  with  passionate  desire — are  these 
the  reasons  of  your  so-called  love?  Oh,  give  it  some  other 
and  lower  name!  For  the  worms  shall  feed  on  the  fair  flesh 
that  won  your  admiration — their  wet  and  slimy  bodies  shall 
trail  across  the  round  white  arms  and  tender  bosom — un- 
sightly things  shall  crawl  among  the  tresses  of  the  glossy 
bair;  and  nothing,  nothing  shall  remain  of  what  you  loved, 
but  dust.  Prince  Ivan,  you  shudder;  but  I  too  loved  Zara — 
I  loved  her,  not  the  perishable  casket  in  which,  like  a  jewel, 
she  was  for  a  time  enshrined.  I  love  her  still — and  for  the 
being  I  love  there  is  no  sucli  thing  as  death." 

The  Prince  was  silent,  and  seemed  touclied.  I  had  spoken 
with  real  feeling,  and  tears  of  emotion  stood  in  my  eyes. 

"I  loved  her  as  a  man  generally  loves,"  he  said,  after  a  little 
pause.    "Nay — more  than  most  men  love  most  women!" 

"Most  men  are  too  often  selfish  in  both  their  loves  and 
hatreds,"  I  returned.  "Tell  me  if  there  was  anything  in 
Zara's  mind  and  intelligence  lo  attract  you?     Did 'you  sym- 


A    ROMiANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  215 

pathize  iu  her  pursuits;  die!  jou  admire  \\vr  uisles;  had  you 
any  ideas  in  common  with  her?" 

"No,  I  confess  I  had  not,"  he  answered  readily.  "I  con- 
sidered her  to  be  entirely  a  victim  to  her  brother's  scientific 
experiments.  I  thought,  by  making  her  my  wife,  to  release 
her  from  such  tyranny  and  give  her  rescue  and  refuge.  To 
Tliis  end  I  found  out  all  I  could  from — him" — he  approached 
the  name  of  Ileliobas  with  reluctance — '"and  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  her  delicate  imagination  had  been  morbidly  ex- 
cited; but  that  marriage  and  a  life  like  that  led  by  other 
women  would  Inving  her  to  a  more  healthy  state  of  mind." 

I  smiled  witli  a  little  scorn. 

"Your  presumption  was  almost  greater  than  your  folly, 
Prince,"  I  said,  "that  with  such  ideas  as  these  in  your  mind 
you  could  dream  of  winning  Zara  for  a  wife.  Do  you  think 
she  could  have  led  a  life  like  that  of  other  women?  A  friv- 
olous round  of  gaiety,  a  few  fine  dresses  and  jewels,  small- 
talk,  society  scandal,  stale  compliments — you  think  such 
things  would  have  suited  her?  And  would  she  have  contented 
lierself  with  a  love  like  yours?  Come!  Come  and  see  how 
well  she  has  escaped  you!" 

And  I  beckoned  him  towards  the  door.     He  hesitated. 

"Where  would  you  take  me?"  he  asked. 

"To  the  chapel.     Zara's  body  lies  there." 

He  shuddered. 

"JSTo,  no — not  there!  I  cannot  bear  to  look  upon  her  per- 
ished loveliness — to  see  that  face,  once  so  animated,  white 
and  rigid — death  in  such  a  form  is  too  horrible!" 

And  he  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand — I  saw  tears  slowly 
drop  through  his  fingers.  I  gazed  at  him,  lialf  in  wonder,  half 
in  pity. 

"And  yet  you  are  a  brave  man!"  I  said. 

These  words  roused  him.  He  met  my  gaze  with  such  a 
haggard  look  of  woe  that  my  heart  ached  for  him.  What 
comfort  had  he  now?  What  Joy  could  he  ever  expect?  All 
liis  happiness  was  centred  in  the  fact  of  being  alive — alive 
to  the  pleasures  of  living,  and  to  the  joys  the  world  could 
offer  to  a  man  who  was  strong,  handsome,  rich,  and  accom- 
plished— how  could  he  look  upon  death  as  otherwise  than 
a  loathsome  thing — a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of  in  the  heyday 
of  youthful  blood  and  jollity — a  doleful  spectre,  in  whose 
bonv  hands  the  roses  of  love  must  fall  and  wither!     With 


216  A    ROMANCE   OP    TWO    WORLDS, 

a  sense  of  deep  commiseration  in  me,  I  spoke  again  with  great 
gentleness. 

"You  need  not  look  upon  Zara's  corpse  unless  )^ou  wish  it, 
Prince,"  I  said.  "To  you,  the  mysteries  of  the  Hereafter- 
have  not  been  unlocked,  because  there  is  something  in  your 
nature  that  cannot  and  will  not  believe  in  God.  Therefore 
to  you,  death  must  be  repellent.  I  know  ^'■ou  are  one  of 
those  for  whom  the  present  alone  exists — you  easily  forget 
the  past,  and  take  no  trouble  for  the  future.  Paris  is  your 
heaven,  or  St.  Petersburg,  or  Vienna,  as  the  fancy  takes 
you;  and  the  modern  atheistical  doctrines  of  French  demoral- 
ization are  in  your  blood.  iSTothing  but  a  heaven-sent  miracle 
could  make  you  other  than  you  are,  and  miracles  do  not  exist 
for  the  materialist.  But  let  me  say  two  words  more  before 
you  go  from  this  house.  Seek  no  more  to  avenge  yourself 
for  your  love-disappointment  on  Heliobas — for  you  have  really 
nothing  to  avenge.  By  your  own  confession  you  only  cared 
for  Zara's  body — that  body  was  always  perishable,  and  it 
has  perished  by  a  sudden  but  natural  catastrophe.  With  her 
soul,  you  declare  you  had  nothing  in  common — that  was 
herself — and  she  is  alive  to  us  who  love  her  as  she  sought 
to  be  loved.  Heliobas  is  innocent  of  having  slain  her  body; 
he  but  helped  to  cultivate  and  foster  that  beautiful  Spirit 
which  he  knew  to  be  her — for  that  he  is  to  be  honored  and 
commended.  Promise  me,  therefore.  Prince  Ivan,  that  you 
will  never  approach  him  again  except  in  friendship — indeed, 
you  owe  him  an  apology  for  your  unjust  accusation,  as  also 
your  gratitude  for  his  sparing  your  life  in  the  recent  struggle." 
The  Prince  kept  his  eyes  steadily  fixed  upon  me  all  the 
time  I  was  speaking,  and  as  I  finished,  he  sighed  and  moved 
restlessly. 

"Your  words  are  compelling,  mademoiselle,"  he  said;  "and 
you  have  a  strange  attraction  for  me.  I  know  I  am  not 
wrong  in  thinking  that  you  are  a  disciple  of  Heliobas,  whose 
science  I  admit,  though  I  doubt  his  theories.  I  promise  you 
willingly  what  you  ask — nay,  I  will  even  offer  him  my  hand 
if  he  will  accept  it." 

Overjoyed  at  my  success,  I  answered: 
"He  is  in  the  chapel,  but  I  will  fetch  him  here," 
Over  the  Prince's  face  a  shadow  of  doubt,  mingled  with 
dread,  passed  swiftly,  and  he  seemed  to  be  forming  a  resolve 
in  his  own  mind  which  was  more  or  less  distasteful  to  him. 


# 

A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  217 

Wliaterer  the  feeling  was,  he  conquered  it  by  a  strong  cITort, 
and  said  with  firmness: 

"No;  I  will  go  to  him  myself.  And  I  will  look  again  upon 
— upon  the  face  I  loved.  It  is  but  one  pang  the  more,  and 
why  should  I  not  endure  it?" 

Seeing  him  thus  inclined,  I  made  no  effort  to  dissuade  him, 
and  without  another  word  I  led  the  way  to  the  chapel.  I 
entered  it  reverently,  he  following  me  closely,  with  slow 
hushed  footsteps.  All  was  the  same  as  I  had  left  it,  save 
that  the  servants  of  the  household  had  gone  to  take  some 
needful  rest  before  the  morning  light  called  them  to  their 
daily  routine  of  labor.  Father  Paul,  too,  had  retired,  and 
Heliobas  alone  knelt  beside  all  that  remained  of  Zara,  his 
figure  as  motionless  as  though  carved  in  bronze,  his  face 
hidden  in  his  hands.  As  we  approached,  he  neither  stirred 
nor  looked  up,  therefore  I  softly  led  the  Prince  to  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  bier,  that  he  might  look  quietly  on  the  per- 
ished loveliness  that  lay  there  at  rest  forever.  Ivan  trem- 
bled, yet  steadfastly  gazed  at  the  beautiful  reposeful  fonn, 
at  the  calm  features  on  which  the  smile  -with  which  death 
had  been  received,  still  lingered — at  the  folded  hands,  the 
fading  orange-blossoms — at  the  crucifix  that  lay  on  the  cold 
breast  like  the  final  seal  on  the  letter  of  life.  Impulsively 
he  stooped  forward,  and  with  a  tender  awe  pressed  his  lips 
on  the  pale  forehead,  but  instantly  started  back  with  the 
smothered   exclamation: 

"0  God!   how  cold!" 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  Heliobas  rose  up  erect,  and  the 
two  men  faced  each  other,  Zara's  dead  body  lying  like  a  bar- 
rier betwixt  them. 

A  paiTse  followed — a  pause  in  wliieli  I  heard  my  own  heart 
beating  loudly,  so  great  was  my  anxiety.  Heliobas  suffered 
a  few  moments  to  elapse,  then  stretched  his  hand  across  his 
sister's  bier. 

"In  Her  name,  let  there  be  peace  between  us,  Ivan,"  he 
said  in  accents  that  were  both  gentle  and  solemn. 

The  Prince,  touched  to  the  quick,  responded  to  these  kindly 
words  with  eager  promptness,  and  they  clasped  hands  over 
the  quiet  and  lovely  form  that  lay  there — a  silent,  binding 
mtness  of  their  reconciliation. 

*1  have  to  ask  your  pardon,  Casirair,"  then  whispered 
Ivan.    "I  have  also  to  thank  you  for  my  life," 


218  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

"Thauk  the  friend  •who  stands  heside  yon,"  returned  Ileho- 
bas,  in  the  same  low  tone,  with  a  slight  gesture  towards  me. 
"She  reminded  me  of  a  duty  in  time.  As  for  pardon,  I  know, 
of  no  cause  of  offense  on  your  part  save  what  was  perfectly 
excusable.  Say  no  more;  wisdom  comes  with  years,  and 
you  are  yet  young." 

A  long  silence  followed.  We  all  remained  looking  wistfully 
doAvn  upon  the  body  of  our  lost  darling,  in  thought  too  deep 
for  words  or  weeping.  I  then  noticed  that  another  humble 
mourner  shared  our  watch — a  mourner  whose  very  existence 
I  had  nearly  forgotten.  It  was  the  faithful  Leo.  He  lay 
eouehant  on  the  stone  floor  at  the  foot  of  the  l)ier,  almost  as 
silent  as  a  dog  of  marble;  the  only  sign  of  animation  he  gave 
being  a  deep  sigh  which  broke  from  his  honest  heart  now 
and  then.  I  went  to  him  and  softly  patted  his. shaggy  coat. 
He  looked  up  at  me  with  big  brown  eyes  full  of  tears,  licked 
my  hand  meekly,  and  again  laid  his  head  down  upon  his  two 
fore-paws  with  a  resignation  that  was  most  pathetic. 

The  dawn  began  to  peer  faintly  through  the  chapel  win- 
dows— the  dawn  of  a  misty,  chilly  morning.  The  storm  of 
the  past  night  had  left  a  sting  in  the  air,  and  the  rain  still  fell, 
though  gently.  The  wind  had  almost  entirely  sunk  into 
silence.  I  rearranged  the  flov/ers  that  were  strevrn  on  Zara's 
corpse,  taking  away  all  those  that  had  slightly  faded.  The 
orange-blossom  was  almost  dead,  but  I  left  that  where  it 
was — where  the  living  Zara  had  herself  placed  it.  As  I  per- 
formed this  slight  service,  I  thought,  half  mournfully,  half 
gladly— 

"Yes,  Heaven  is  thine,  but  this 

Is  a  world  of  sweets  and  sours — 
Our  flowers  ai-e  merely  flowers; 
And  the  shadow  of  thy  perfect  bliss 
Is  the  sunshine  of  ours." 

Prince  Ivan  at  last  roused  himself  as  from  a  deep  and 
melancholy  reverie,  and,  addressing  himself  to  Heliobas,  said 
softly: 

"1  will  intrude  no  longer  on  your  privacy,  Casimir.  Fare- 
well!    I  shall  leave  Paris  to-night." 

For  all  answer  Heliobas  beckoned  him  and  me  also  out 
of  the  chapel.  As  soon  as  its  doors  closed  behind  us,  and 
Ave  stood  in  the  centre  hall,  he  spoke  with  affectionate  and 
grave  earnestness; 


I 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  219 

"Ivan,  sometliing  telis  me  that  you  aud  1  shall  uoi  ineet 
again  for  many  years,  if  ever.     Therefore,  when  you  say 
'farewell,'  the  word  falls  upon  my  ears  with  double  meaning. 
We  are  friends — our  friendship  is  sanctified  by  the  dead  pres- 
ence of  one  whom  we  both  loved,  in  different  ways;  therefore 
you  will  take  in  good  part  what  I  now  say  to  you.     You 
know,  you  cannot  disguise  from  yourself  that  the  science  I 
study  is  fraught  with  terrible  truth  and  marvelous  discoveries; 
the  theories  I  deduce  from  it  you  disbelieve,  because  you  are 
nearly  a  materialist.     I  say  nearly — not  quite.     That  'not 
quite'  makes  me  love  you,  Ivan:  I  would  save  the  small  bright 
spark  that  flickers  within  you  from  both  escape  and  extinction. 
But  I  cannot — at  least,  not  as  yet.    Still,  in  order  that  you  may 
know  that  there  is  a  power  in  me  higher  than  ordinary  human 
reason,  before  you  go  from  me  to-night  hear  my  prophecy 
of  your  career.     The  world  waits  for  you,  Ivan — the  world, 
all  agape  and  glittering  with  a  thousand  sparkling  toys;    it 
waits  greedy  for  your  presence,  ready  to  fawn  upon  you  for 
a  smile,  willing  tw  cringe  to  you  for  a  nod  of  approval.    And 
why?    Because  wealth  is  yours — vast,  illimitable  wealth.    Aye 
— you  need  not  start  or  look  incredulous — you  will  find  it 
as  I  say.    You,  whose  fortune  up  to  now  has  barely  reached 
a  poor  four  thousand  per  annum — you  are  at  this  moment 
the  possessor  of  millions.    Only  last  night  a  relative  of  yours, 
Avhose  name  you  scarcely  know,  expired,  leaving  all  his  hoard- 
ed treasures  to  you.     Before  the  close  of  this  present  day, 
on  whose  threshold  we  now  stand,  you  will  have  the  news. 
When  you  receive  it  remember  me,  and  acknowledge  that  at 
least  for  once  I  knew  and  spoke  the  truth.    Follow  the  broad 
road,  Ivan,  laid   out  before  you — a  road  wide  enough  not 
only  for  you  to  walk  in,  but  for  the  crowd  of  toadies  and 
flatterers  also.  Avho  will  push  on  swiftly  after  you  and  jostle 
you  on  all  sides;    be  strong  of  heart  and  merry  of  counte- 
nance!   Gather  the  roses;  press  the  luscious  grapes  into  warm, 
red  wine  that,  as  you  quaff  it,  shall  make  your  blood  dance 
a  mad  waltz  in  j'our  veins,  and  fair  women's  faces  shall  seem 
fairer  to  you  than  ever,  their  embraces  more  tender,  their 
kisses  more  tempting!     Spin  the  ball  of  Society  like  a  toy 
in  the  palm  of  your  hand!     I  see  your  life  stretching  before 
me  like  a  brilliant,  thread-like  ephemeral  ray  of  light!     But 
in  the  far  distance  across  it  looms  a  shadow — a  shadow  that 
your  power  alone  can  never  lift.     Mark  me,  Ivan!     When 


^S6  A    ROMANCE    OF   TWO    WORLDS; 

the  lirst  dread  chill  of  that  shadow  makes  itself  felt,  come 
to  me — I  shall  yet  be  living.  Come;  for  then  no  wealth  can 
aid  you — at  that  dark  hour  no  boon  companions  can  com- 
fort. Come;  and  by  our  friendship  so  lately  sworn — by  Zara's 
pure  soul — by  God's  existence,  I  will  not  die  till  I  have 
changed  that  darkness  over  you  into  light  eternal! — Fare  you 
well!" 

He  caught  the  Prince's  hand,  and  wrung  it  hard;  then, 
without  further  word,  look,  or  gesture,  turned  and  disap- 
peared again  within  the  chapel. 

His  words  had  evidently  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
young  nobleman,  who  gazed  after  his  retreating  figure  with 
a  certain  awe  not  unmingied  with  fear. 

I  held  out  my  hand  in  silent  farevv'eJl.  Ivan  took  it  gently, 
and  kissed  it  with  graceful  courtesy. 

"Casimir  told  me  that  your  intercession  saved  my  life, 
mademoiselle,"  he  said.  "Accept  my  poor  thanks.  If  his 
present  prophet-like  utterances  be  true " 

'''Why  should  you  doubt  him?"  I  asked,  with  some  impa- 
tience.    "Can  you  believe  in  nothing?" 

The  Prince,  still  holding  my  hand,  looked  at  me  in  a  sort 
of  grave  perplexity. 

"I  think  you  have  hit  it,"  he  observed  quietly.  "I  doubt 
evei^thing  except  the  fact  of  my  own  existence,  and  there 
are  times  when  I  am  not  even  sure  of  that.  But  if,  as  I 
said  before,  the  j^rophecy  of  my  Chaldean  friend,  whom  I 
cannot  help  admiring  with  all  my  heart,  turns  out  to  be 
correct,  then  my  life  is  more  valuable  to  me  than  ever  with 
such  wealth  to  balance  it,  and  I  thank  you  doubly  for  having 
saved  it  by  a  word  in  time." 

I  withdrew  my  hand  gently  from  his. 

"You  think  the  worth  of  your  life  increased  by  wealth?" 
I  asked. 

"•N"aturally!     Money  is  power." 

"And  Avhat  of  tlie  shadow  also  foretold  as  inseparable 
from  your  fate?" 

A  faint  smile  crossed  his  features. 

"Ah,  pardon  me!  That  is  the  only  portion  of  Casimir's 
fortime-telling  that  I  am  inclined  to  disbelieve  thoroughly." 

"r)ut,"  I  said,  "if  you  are  willing  to  accept  the  pleasant 
part  of  his  prophecy,  why  not  admit  the  possibility  of  the 
unpleasant  occurring  also?" 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  221 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"In  these  enlightened  times,  mademoiselle,  we  only  believe 
what  is  agreeable  to  us,  and  what  suits  our  own  wishes,  tastes, 
and  opinions.  Ca  va  sans  dire.  We  cannot  be  forced  to 
accept  a  Deity  against  our  reason.  That  is  a  grand  result 
of  modern  education." 

"Is  it?"  and  I  looked-  at  him  with'  pity.  "Poor  human 
reason!  It  will  reel  into  madness  sometimes  for  a  mere 
trifle — an  overdose  of  alcohol  will  sometimes  upset  it  alto- 
gether— what  a  noble  omnipotent  thing  is  human  reason! 
But  let  me  not  detain  you.  Good-bye,  and — as  the  greeting 
of  olden  times  used  to  run — God  save  you!" 

He  bent  his  head  with  a  light  reverence. 

"I  believe  you  to  be  a  good,  sweet  woman,"  he  said,  "there- 
fore I  am  grateful  for  your  blessing.  My  mother,"  and  here 
his  eyes  grew  dreamy  and  wistful — "poor  soul!  she  died  long 
ago — my  mother  would  never  let  me  retire  to  rest  without 
signing  the  cross  on  my  brow.  Ah  well,  that  is  past!  I 
should  like,  mademoiselle,"  and  his  voice  sank  very  low,  "to 
send  some  flowers  for — her — you  understand?" 

I  did  understand,  and  readily  promised  to  lay  whatever 
blossoms  he  selected  tenderly  above  the  sacred  remains  of 
that  earthly  beauty  he  had  loved,  as  he  himself  said,  "more 
than  most  men  love  most  women." 

He  thanked  me  earnestly,  and  seemed  relieved  and  satisfied. 
Casting  a  look  of  farewell  around  the  familiar  hall,  he  wafted 
a  parting  kiss  towards  the  chapel — an  action  which,  though 
light,  was  full  of  tenderness  and  regret.  Then,  with  a  lovr 
salute,  he  left  me.  The  street-door  opened  and  closed  after 
him  in  its  usual  noiseless  manner.     He  was  gone. 

The  morning  had  now  fairly  dawned,  and  within  the  Hotel 
Mars  the  work  of  the  great  mansion  went  on  in  its  usual 
routine;  but  a  sombre  melancholy  was  in  the  atmosphere — a 
melancholy  that  not  all  my  best  efforts  could  dissipate.  The 
domestics  looked  sullen  and  heavy-eyed;  the  only  ones  in 
their  number  who  preserved  their  usual  equanimity  were  the 
Armenian  men-servants  and  the  little  Greek  page.  Prepara- 
tions for  Zara's  funeral  went  on  apace;  they  were  exceedingly 
simple,  and  the  ceremony  was  to  be  quite  private  in  character. 
Heliobas  issued  his  orders,  and  saw  to  the  carrying  out  of 
his  most  minute  instruetious  in  his  usual  calm  manner;  but 
his  eyes  looked  heavy,  and  his  fine  countenance  was  rendered 


222  A   ROMANCE    OP    TWO   WORLDS. 

even  more  majestic  by  the  sacred,  resigned  sorrow  that  lay 
upon  it  like  a  deep  shadow.  His  page  served  him  with  break- 
fast in  his  private  room;  but  he  left  the  light  meal  untasted. 
One  of  the  women  brought  me  coffee;  but  the  very  thought 
of  eating  and  drinldng  seemed  repulsive,  and  I  could  not 
touch  anything.  My  mind  was  busy  with  the  consideration 
of  the  duty  I  had  to  perform — namely,  to  see  the  destruction 
of  Zara's  colossal  statue,  as  she  had  requested.  After  think- 
ing about  it  for  some  time,  I  went  to  Heliobas  and  told  hira 
what  I  had  it  in  charge  to  do.    lie  listened  attentively. 

"Do  it  at  once,"  he  said  decisively.  "Take  my  Armenians; 
they  are  discreet,  obedient,  and  they  ask  no  questions — with 
strong  hammers  they  will  soon  crush  the  clay.  Stay!  I  will 
come  with  you."  Then  looking  at  me  scrutinizingly,  he 
added  kindly:  "'You  have  eaten  nothing,  my  child?  You 
cannot?  But  your  strength  will  give  way — here,  take  this." 
And  he  held  out  a  small  glass  of  a  fluid  whose  revivifying 
properties  I  well  knew  to  be  greater  than  any  sustenance 
provided  by  an  ordinary  meal.  I  swallowed  it  obediently, 
and  as  I  returned  the  empty  glass  to  him  he  said:  "I  also 
have  a  commission  in  charge  from  Zara.  You  know,  I  sup- 
pose, that  she  was  prepared  for  her  death?" 

"I  did  not  know;  but  I  think  she  must  have  been,"  I 
answered. 

"She  was.  We  both  were.  We  remained  together  in  the 
chapel  all  day,  saying  what  parting  words  we  had  to  say 
to  one  another.  We  knew  her  death,  or  rather  her  release, 
was  to  occur  at  some  hour  that  night;  but  in  what  way 
the  end  was  destined  to  come,  we  knew  not.  Till  I  heard  the 
first  peals  of  thunder,  I  was  in  suspense;  but  after  that  I 
was  no  longer  uncertain.  You  were  a  witness  of  the  A^hole 
ensuing  scene.  No  death  could  have  been  more  painless  than 
hers.  But  let  me  not  forget  the  message  she  gave  me  for  you." 
Here  he  took  from  a  secret  drawer  the  electric  stone  Zara 
liad  always  worn.  "This  jewel  is  yours,"  he  said.  "You  need 
i^ot  fear  to  accept  it — it  contains  no  harm!  it  will  bring  you 
no  ill-fortune.  You  see  how  all  the  sparkling  brilliancy  has 
gone  out  of  it?  Wear  it,  and  within  a  few  minutes  it  will 
be  as  lustrous  as  ever.  The  life  throbbing  in  your  veins 
warms  the  electricity  contained  in  it;  and  with  the  flowing 
of  your  blood,  its  hues  change  and  glow.     It  has  no  power 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  223 

to  attract;    it  can  simply  absorb  and  sliine.     Take  it  as  a 
remembrance  of  her  who  loved  you  and  who  loves  you  still." 

I  was  still  in  my  evening  dress,  and  my  neck  was  bare.  I 
slipped  the  chain,  on  wliich  hung  the  stone,  round  my  throat, 
and  watched  the  strange  gem  with  some  curiosity.  In  a  few 
seconds  a  pale  streak  of  fiery  topaz  flashed  through  it,  which 
deepened  and  glowed  into  a  warm  crimson,  like  the  heart  of 
a  red  rose;  and  by  the  time  it  had  become  thoroughly  warmed 
against  my  flesh,  it  glittered  as  brilliantly  as  ever. 

"I  will  always  wear  it,"  I  said  earnestly.  "I  believe  it  will 
bring  me  good  fortune." 

"I  believe  it  will,"  said  Heliobas  simply.  "And  now  let 
us  fulfil  Zara's  other  commands." 

On  our  way  across  the  hall  we  were  stopped  by  the  page, 
who  brought  us  a  message  of  inquiry  after  Zara's  health  from 
Colonel  Everard  and  his  wife,  and  also  from  the  Challoners. 
Heliobas  hastily  wrote  a  few  brief  words  in  pencil,  explaining 
the  fatal  result  of  the  accident,  and  returned  it  to  the  messen- 
ger, giAdng  orders  at  the  same  time  that  all  the  blinds  should 
be  pulled  down  at  the  windows  of  the  house,  that  visitors 
might  understand  there  w"as  no  admittance.  We  then  pro- 
ceeded to  the  studio,  accompanied  by  the  Armenians  carrying 
heavy  hammers.  Eeverently,  and  with  my  mind  full  of  recol- 
lections of  Zara's  living  presence,  I  opened  the  familiar  door. 
The  first  thing  that  greeted  us  was  a  most  exquisitely  wrought 
statue  in  white  marble  of  Zara  herself,  full  length,  and  ar- 
rayed in  her  customary  graceful  Eastern  costume.  The  head 
was  slightly  raised:  a  look  of  gladness  lighted  up  the  beauti- 
ful features;  and  within  the  loosely  clasped  hands  was  a  clus- 
ter of  roses.  Iiound  the  pedestal  were  carved  the  words, 
"Omnia  vincit  Amor,"  with  Zara'g  name  and  the  dates  of 
licr  birth  and  death.  A  little  slip  of  paper  lay  at  the  foot 
of  the  statue,  which  Heliobas  perceived,  and  taking  it  he 
read  and  passed  it  to  me.  The  lines  were  in  Zara's  hand- 
writiug,  and  ran  as  follows: 

"To  my  beloved  Casimir — my  brother,  my  friend,  my  guide 
and  teacher,  to  whom  I  owe  the  supreme  happiness  of  my  life 
in  this  Avorld  and  the  next— let  this  poor  figure  of  his  grateful 
Zara  be  a  memento  of  happy  da3's  that  are  gone,  only  to  be 
renewed  with  redoubled  happiness  hereafter." 


224  A   ROMANCE   OP   TWO    WORLDS. 

I  handed  back  the  paper  silently,  with  tears  in  my  eyes, 
and  we  turned  our  attention  to  the  colossal  figure  we  had 
come  to  destro}"-.  It  stood  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  studio, 
and  was  entirely  hidden  by  white  linen  drapery.  Helioba^ 
advanced,  and  by  a  sudden  dexterous  movement  succeeded 
in  drawing  off  the  coverings  with  a  single  efllort,  and  then  we 
both  fell  back  and  gazed  at  the  clay  form  disclosed  in  amaze- 
ment. What  did  it  represent?  A  man?  a  god?  an  angel? 
or  all  three  united  in  one  vast  figure? 

It  was  an  unfinished  work.  The  features  of  the  face  were 
undeclared,  save  the  brow  and  eyes;  and  these  were  large, 
grand,  and  full  of  absolute  wisdom  and  tranquil  consciousness 
of  power.  I  could  have  gazed  on  this  wonderful  piece  of 
Zara's  handiwork  for  hours,  but  Heliobas  called  to  the  Ar- 
menian servants,  who  stood  near  the  door  awaiting  orders, 
and  commanded  them  to  break  it  down.  For  once  these  well- 
trained  domestics  showed  signs  of  surprise,  and  hesitated. 
Their  master  frowned.  Snatching  a  hammer  from  one  of 
them,  he  himself  attacked  the  great  statue  as  if  it  were  a 
personal  doe.  The  Armenians,  seeing  he  was  in  earnest,  re- 
turned to  their  usual  habits  of  passive  obedience,  and  aided 
him  in  his  labor.  Within  a  few  minutes  the  great  and  beau- 
tiful figure  lay  in  fragments  on  the  floor,  and  these  fragments 
were  soon  crushed  into  indistinguishable  atoms.  I  had  prom- 
ised to  witness  this  work  of  destruction,  and  witness  it  I  did, 
but  it  was  with  pain  and  regret.  When  all  was  finished, 
Heliobas  commanded  his  men  to  carry  the  statue  of  Zara's 
self  down  to  his  o\^^l  private  room,  and  then  to  summon  all 
the  domestics  of  the  household  in  a  body  to  the  great  hall, 
as  he  wished  to  address  them,  I  heard  him  give  this  order 
with  some  surprise,  and  he  saw  it.  As  the  Armenians  slowly 
disappeared,  carrying  with  great  care  the  marble  figure  of 
their  late  mistress,  he  turned  to  me,  as  he  locked  up  the  door 
of  the  studio,  and  said  quietly: 

"These  ignorant  folk,  who  serve  me  for  money  and  food — 
money  that  they  have  eagerly  taken,  and  food  that  they  have 
greedily  devoured — they  think  that  I  am  the  devil  or  one 
of  the  "devil's  agents,  and  T  am  going  to  prove  their  theories 
entirely  to  their  satisfaction.     Come  and  see!" 

I  followed  him,  somewhat  mystified.  On  the  way  down- 
stairs he  said: 

"Do  you  know  why  Zara  wished  that  statue  destroyed?" 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS.  225 

"No,"  I  said  frankly;  "unless  for  the  reason  that  it  was 
incomplete." 

*'It  always  would  have  been  incomplete,"  returned  Helio- 
bas;  "even  had  she  lived  to  work  at  il  for  years.  It  was  a 
daring  attempt,  and  a  fruitless  one.  She  was  trying  to  make 
a  clay  figure  of  one  who  never  wore  earthly  form — the  Being 
who  is  her  Twin-Soul,  who  dominates  her  entirely,  and  who 
is  with  her  now.  As  well  might  she  have  tried  to  represent 
in  white  marble  the  prismatic  hues  of  the  rainbow!" 

We  had  now  reached  the  hall,  and  the  servants  were  assem- 
bling by  twos  and  threes.  They  glanced  at  their  master  with 
looks  of  awe,  as  he  took  up  a  commanding  position  near  the 
fountain,  and  faced  them  with  a  glance  of  calm  scrutiny 
and  attention.  I  drew  a  chair  behind  one  of  the  marble  col- 
umns and  seated  myself,  watching  everything  with  interest. 
Leo  appeared  from  some  corner  or  other,  and  laid  his  rougli 
body  down  close  at  his  master's  feet. 

In  a  few  minutes  all  the  domestics,  some  twenty  in  num- 
ber, were  present,  and  Heliobas,  raising  his  voice,  spoke  with 
a  clear  deliberate  enunciation: 

"I  have  sent  for  you  all  this  morning,  because  I  am  per- 
fectly aware  that  you  have  all  determined  to  give  me  notice." 

A  stir  of  astonishment  and  dismay  ensued  on  the  part 
of  the  small  audience,  and  I  heard  one  voice  near  me  whis- 
per: 

"He  is  the  devil,  or  how  could  he  have  known  it?" 

The  lips  of  Heliobas  curled  in  a  fine  sarcastic  smile.  He 
went  on: 

"I  spare  you  this  trouble.  Knowing  your  intentions,  I 
take  upon  myself  to  dismiss  you  at  once.  Naturally,  you 
cannot  risk  your  characters  by  remaining  in  the  service  of 
the  devil.  For  my  own  part,  I  wonder  that  the  de^^^s  money 
has  not  burnt  your  hands,  or  his  food  turned  to  poison  in 
your  mouths.  JMy  sister,  your  kind  and  ever-indulgent  mis- 
tress, is  dead.  You  know  this,  and  it  is  your  opinion  that 
I  summoned  up  the  thunderstorm  which  caused  her  death. 
Be  it  so.  Eeport  it  so,  if  you  will,  through  Paris;  your 
words  do  not  affect  me.  You  have  been  excellent  machines, 
and  for  your  services  many  thanks!  As  soon  as  my  sister's 
funeral  is  over,  your  wages,  with  an  additional  present,  will 
be  sent  to  you.  You  can  then  leave  my  house  when  you 
please;  and,  contrary  to  the  usual  custom  of  accepted  devils, 

15 


226  A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

I  am  able  to  say,  without  perishing  in  Ihe  ellort — Goa  speed 
you  all!" 

The  faces  of  those  he  addressed  exhibited  various  emotions 
while  he  spoke — fear  contending  with  a  good  deal  of  shame. , 
The  little  Greek  page  stepped  forward  timidly. 

"'The  master  knows  that  I  Avill  never  leave  him/'  he  mur- 
mured, and  his  large  eyes  were  moist  with  tears. 

Pleliobas  laid  a  gentle  hand  on  the  boy's  dark  curls,  but 
said  nothing.  One  of  the  four  Armenians  advanced,  and  with 
a  graceful  rapid  gesture  of  his  right  hand,  touched  his  head 
and  breast. 

"My  lord  will  not  surely  dismiss  us  who  desire  to  devote 
ourselves  to  his  service?  AVe  are  willing  to  follow  my  lord 
to  the  death  if  need  be,  for  the  sake  of  the  love  and  honor 
we  bear  him." 

Heliobas  looked  at  him  very  kindly. 

"I  am  richer  in  friends  than  I  thought  myself  to  be,"  he 
said  quietly.  ''Stay,  then,  by  all  means,  xVfra,  you  and  your 
companions,  since  you  have  desired  it.  And  you,  my  boy." 
he  went  on,  addressing  the  tearful  page,  "think  3'ou  that  1 
would  turn  adrift  an  orphan,  whom  a  d}ing  mother  trusted  to 
my  care?  Nay,  child,  I  am  as  much  your  servant  as  you  are 
mine,  so  long  as  your  love  turns  towards  me." 

For  all  answer  the  page  kissed  his  hand  in  a  sort  of  rapture, 
and  flinging  back  his  clustering  hair  from  his  classic  brows, 
surveyed  the  domestics,  who  had  taken  their  dismissal  in 
silent  acquiescence,  with  a  pretty  scorn. 

"Go  all  of  you,  scum  of  Paris!"  he  cried  in  his  clear  treble 
tones — "you  who  know  neither  God  nor  devil!  You  will 
have  your  money — more  than  your  share — what  else  seek 
you?  You  have  served  one  of  the  noblest  of  men;  and 
because  he  is  so  great  and  wise  and  true,  you  judge  him  a 
fiend!  Oh,  so  like  the  people  of  Paris — they  who  pervert 
all  things  till  they  think  good  evil  and  evil  good!  Look 
you!  you  have  worked  for  your  wages;  but  I  have  worked 
for  him — I  would  starve  with  him,  I  would  die  for  him! 
For  to  me  he  is  not  fiend,  but  Angel!" 

Overcome  by  his  own  feelings  the  boy  again  kissed  his  mas- 
ter's hand,  and  Heliobas  gently  bade  him  be  silent.  He 
himself  looked  round  on  the  still  motionless  group  of  ser- 
vants Avith  an  air  of  calm  surprise. 

"What  are  you  waiting  for?"  he  asked.     "Consider  your- 


A   ROMANCE    OF   TWO   WORLDS.  227 

selves  dismissed,  and  at  liberty  to  go  where  you  please.  Any 
one  of  you  that  chooses  to  apply  to  me  for  a  character  shall 
not  lack  the  suitable  recommendation.  There  is  no  more 
to  say." 

A  lively-looking  woman  with  quick  restless  black  eyes 
stepped  forward. 

"I  am  sure,"  she  said,  with  a  mincing  curtsey,  "that  we 
are  very  sorry  if  we  have  unintentionally  wronged  monsieur; 
IjLit  monsieur,  who  is  aware  of  so  many  things,  must  know 
that  many  reports  are  circulated  about  monsieur  that  make 
one  to  shudder;  that  madame  his  sister's  death  so  lamentable 
has  given  to  all,  what  one  would  say,  the  horrors;  and  mon- 
sieur must  consider  that  poor  servants  of  virtuous  reputa- 
tion  " 

''So,  Jeanne  Claudet!"  interrupted  Heliobas,  in  a  thrilling 
low  tone.  "And  what  of  the  child — the  little  waxen-faced 
helpless  babe  left  to  die  on  the  banks  of  the  Loire?  But  it 
did  not  die,  Jeanne — it  was  rescued;  and  it  shall  yet  live  to 
loathe  its  mother!" 

The  woman  uttered  a  shriek,  and  fainted. 

In  the  feminine  confusion  and  fuss  that  ensued,  Heliobas, 
accompanied  by  his  little  page  and  the  dog  Leo,  left  the  hall 
and  entered  his  own  private  room,  where  for  some  time  T 
left  him  undisturbed. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  afternoon  a  note  was  brought  to 
me.  It  was  from  Colonel  Everard,  entreating  me  to  come  as 
soon  as  possible  to  his  wife,  who  was  very  ill. 

"Since  she  heard  of  the  death  of  that  beautiful  young  lady, 
a  death  so  fearfully  sudden  and  unexpected,"  wrote  the  Colo- 
nel, "she  has  been  quite  unlike  herself — nervous,  hysterical, 
and  thoroughly  unstrung.  It  will  be  a  real  kindness  to  her 
if  you  will  come  as  soon  as  3^ou  can — she  has  such  a  strong 
desire  for  your  company." 

I  showed  this  note  at  once  to  Heliobas.  He  read  it,  and 
said : 

"Of  course  you  must  go.  ^Yait  till  our  simple  funeral 
ceremony  is  over,  and  then — we  part.  IS'ot  forever;  I  shall 
see  you  often  again.  For  now  I  have  lost  Zara,  you  are  my 
only  female  disciple,  and  I  shall  not  willingly  lose  sight  of 
you.     You  will  correspond  with  me?" 

"Gladly  and  gratefully,"  I  replied. 

"You  shall  not  lose  bv  it.     I  can  initiate  vou  into  many 


228  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO  "WORLDS. 

secrets  that  will  be  useful  to  you  in  your  career.  As  for 
your  friend  Mrs.  Everard,  you  will  find  that  your  presence 
will  cure  her.  You  have  progressed  greatly  in  electric  force: 
The  mere  touch  of  your  hand  will  soothe  her,  as  you  will ' 
find.  But  never  be  tempted  to  try  any  of  the  fluids  of 
which  you  have  the  recipes  on  her,  or  on  anybody  but  your- 
self, unless  you  write  to  me  first  about  it,  as  Cellini  did  when 
he  tried  an  experiment  on  you.  An  for  your  own  bodily  and 
spiritual  health,  you  know  thoroughly  what  to  do — keep  the 
secret;  and  make  a  step  in  advance  every  day.  By-and-by 
you  will  have  double  work.'' 

"How  so?"  I  asked. 

"In  Zara's  case  her  soul  became  dominated  by  a  Spirit 
whose  destiny  was  fulfilled  and  perfect,  and  who  never  could 
descend  to  imprisonment  in  earthly  clay.  Now,  j^ou  will  not 
be  dominated — you  will  be  simply  equalized;  that  is,  you 
will  find  the  exact  counterpart  of  your  own  soul  dwelling 
also  in  human  form,  and  you  will  have  to  impart  your  own 
force  to  that  other  soul,  which  will,  in  its  turn,  impart  to 
yours  a  corresponding  electric  impetus.  There  is  no  union 
so  lovely  as  such  an  one — no  harmony  so  exquisite;  it  is  like 
a  perfect  chord,  complete  and  indissoluble.  There  are  sev- 
enths and  ninths  in  music,  beautiful  and  effective  in  their 
degrees;  but  perhaps  none  of  them  are  so  absolutely  satisfy- 
ing to  the  ear  as  the  perfect  chord.  And  this  is  your  lot  in 
life  and  in  love,  my  child — be  grateful  for  it  night  and  morn- 
ing on  your  bended  knees  before  the  Giver  of  all  good.  And 
walk  warily — your  own  soul  with  that  other  shall  need  much 
thought  and  humble  prayer.  Aim  onward  and  upward — you 
know  the  road — you  also  know,  and  you  have  partly  seen, 
what  awaits  you  at  the  end." 

After  this  conversation  we  spoke  no  more  in  private  to- 
gether. The  rest  of  the  afternoon  was  entirely  occupied 
with  the  final  preparations  for  Zara's  funeral,  which  was  to 
take  place  at  Pere-la-Chaise  early  the  next  morning.  A  large 
and  beautiful  wreath  of  white  roses,  lilies,  and  maiden-hair 
arrived  from  Prince  Ivan;  and,  remembering  my  promise  to 
him,  I  went  myself  to  lay  it  in  a  conspicuous  place  on  Zara's 
corpse.  That  fair  body  was  now  laid  in  its  coffin  of  polished 
oak,  and  a  delicate  veil  of  filmy  lace  draped  it  from  head  to 
foot.  The  placid  expression  of  the  features  remained  un- 
changed, save  for  a  little  extra  rigidity  of  the  flesh;    the 


A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  229 

hands,  folded  over  the  crucifix^  were  stiff,  and  looked  as 
though  they  were  moulded  in  wax.  I  placed  the  wreath  in 
position  and  paused,  looking  v/istfully  at  that  still  and  sol- 
emn figure.  Father  Paul,  slowly  entering  from  a  side-door, 
came  and  stood  beside  me. 

"She  is  happy!"  he  said;  and  a  cheerful  expression  irra- 
diated his  venerable  features. 

"Did  you  also  know  she  would  die  that  night?"  I  asked 
softly. 

"Her  brother  sent  for  me,  and  told  me  of  her  expected 
dissolution.  She  herself  told  me,  and  made  her  last  con- 
fession and  communion.     Therefore  I  was  prepared." 

"But  did  you  not  doubt — were  you  not  inclined  to  think 
they  might  be  wrong?"  I  inquired,  with  some  astonishment. 

"I  knew  Heliobas  as  a  child."  the  priest  returned.  "I 
knew  his  father  and  mother  before  him;  and  I  have  been 
alwa3''s  perfectly  aware  of  the  immense  extent  of  his  knowl- 
edge, and  the  value  of  his  discoveries.  If  I  were  inclined 
to  be  skeptical  on  spiritual  matters,  I  should  not  be  of  the 
race  I  am;   for  I  am  also  a  Chaldean." 

I  said  no  more,  and  Father  Paul  trimmed  the  tapers  burn- 
ing round  the  coffin  in  devout  silence.  Again  I  looked  at 
the  fair  dead  form  before  me;  but  somehow  I  could  not  feel 
sad  again.  All  my  impulses  bade  me  rejoice.  AVhy  should  I 
be  unhappy  on  Zara's  account? — more  especially  when  the 
glories  of  the  Central  Sphere  were  yet  fresh  in  my  memory, 
and  when  I  knew  as  a  positive  fact  that  her  happiness  was 
now  perfect.  I  left  the  chapel  with  a  light  step  and  lighter 
heart,  and  went  to  my  own  room  to  pack  up  my  things  that 
all  might  be  in  readiness  for  my  departure  on  the  morrow. 
On  my  table  I  found  a  volume  whose  quaint  binding  I  at 
once  recognized — "The  Letters  of  a  Dead  Musician."  A  card 
lay  beside  it,  on  which  was  written  in  pencil: 

"'Knowing  of  your  wish  to  possess  this  book,  I  herewith 
offer  it  for  your  acceptance.  It  teaches  you  a  cheerful  devo- 
tion to  x\rt,  and  an  indifference  to  the  world's  opinions — 
both  of  which  are  necessary  to  you  in  your  career. —  Helio- 
bas .  " 

Delighted  with  this  gift,  I  opened  the  book,  and  found 
my  name  written  on  the  fly-leaf,  with  the  date  of  the  month 
and  year,  and  the  words: 


230  A  ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

^^La  musica  e  il  latnento  deJV  a  more  o  la  preghiera  a  gli 
Dei."    (]Music  is  the  lament  of  love,  or  a  prayer  to  the  Gods.) 

I  placed  this  treasure  carefully  in  a  corner  of  my  port- 
manteau, together  with  the  parchment  scrolls  containing 
-"'The  Electric  Principle  of  Christianity,"  and  the  valuable ' 
recipes  of  Heliobas;  and  as  I  did  so,  I  caught  sight  of  myself 
in  the  long  mirror  that  directly  faced  me,  I  was  fascinated, 
not  by  my  own  reflection,  but  by  the  glitter  of  the  electric 
gem  I  wore.  It  flashed  and  glowed  like  a  star,  and  was 
really  lovely — far  more  brilliant  than  the  most  brilliant  cluster 
of  fine  diamonds.  I  may  here  remark  that  I  have  been  asked 
many  questions  concerning  this  curious  ornament  whenever 
I  have  worn  it  in  public,  and  the  general  impression  has  been 
that  it  is  some  new  arrangement  of  ornamental  electricity. 
It  is,  however,  nothing  of  the  kind;  it  is  simply  a  clear 
pebble,  common  enough  on  the  shores  of  tropical  countries, 
which  has  the  property  of  absorbing  a  small  portion  of  the 
electricity  in  a  human  body,  sufficient  to  make  it  shine  with 
prismatic  and  powerful  lustre — a  property  which  has  only 
as  yet  been  discovered  by  Heliobas,  who  asserts  that  the 
same  capability  exists  in  many  other  apparently  lustreless 
stones  which  have  been  untried,  and  are  therefore  unknown. 
The  "healing  stones,"  or  amulets,  still  in  use  in  the  East, 
and  also  in  the  remote  parts  of  the  Highlands  (see  notes  to 
Archibald  Clerk's  translation  of  Ossian),  are  also  electric, 
Init  in  a  different  way — they  have  the  property  of  absorbing 
disease  and  destroying  it  in  certain  cases;  and  these,  after 
being  worn  a  suitable  length  of  time,  naturally  exhaust  what 
virtue  they  originally  possessed,  and  are  no  longer  of  any 
use.  Stone  amulets  are  considered  nowadays  as  a  mere  super- 
stition of  the  vulgar  and  uneducated;  but  it  must  be  remem- 
l)ered  that  superstition  itself  has  always  had  for  its  founda- 
tion some  grain,  however  small  and  remote,  of  fact.  I  could 
give  a  very  curious  explanation  of  the  formation  of  orchids, 
those  strange  plants  called  sometimes  "Freaks  of  Nature," 
as  if  Nature  ever  indulged  in  a  "freak"  of  any  kind!  But  I 
have  neither  time  nor  space  to  enter  upon  the  subject  now; 
indeed,  if  I  were  once  to  begin  to  describe  the  wonderful, 
amazing  and  beautiful  vistas  of  knowledge  that  the  wise 
Chaldean,  who  is  still  my  friend  and  guide,  has  opened  up 
and  continues  to  extend  before  my  admiring  vision,  a  work 
of  twentv  volumes  would  scarce  contain  all  I  should  have  to 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  231 

say.  But  1  have  written  this  book  merely  to  tell  those  who 
peruse  it  about  Heliobas,  and  what  I  myself  experienced 
in  his  house;  beyond  this  I  may  not  go.  For,  as  I  observed 
in  my  introduction,  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  few,  if  any, 
of  my  readers  will  accept  my  narrative  as  more  than  a  mere 
visionary  romance — or  that  they  will  admit  the  mysteries  of 
life,  death,  eternit}',  and  all  the  wonders  of  the  Universe 
to  be  simply  the  natural  and  scientific  outcome  of  a  Ring 
ol'  Everlasting  Heat  and  Light;  but  whether  they  agree  to 
it  or  no,  I  can  say  with  Galileo,    -'E pnr  si  miiove!" 


CHAPTER  XYIT. 

CONCLUSION. 

It  was  a  very  simple  and  quiet  procession  that  moved  next 
(lav  from  the  Hotel  Mars  to  Pere-la-Chaise.  Zara's  coffin 
was  carried  in  an  open  hearse,  and  was  covered  with  a  pall 
of  rich  white  velvet,  on  which  lay  a  royal  profusion  of  flowers 
— Ivan's  wreath,  and  a  magnificent  cross  of  lilies  sent  by 
tender-hearted  Mrs.  Challoncr,  being  most  conspicuous  among 
ihem.  The  only  thing  a  little  unusual  about  it  was  that  the 
funeral  car  was  drawn  by  two  stately  white  horses;  and  Helio- 
bas  told  me  this  had  been  ordered  at  Zara's  special  request, 
as  she  thought  the  solemn  pacing  through  the  streets  of 
dismal  black  steeds  had  a  depressing  effect  on  the  passers-by. 

"And  why,"  she  had  said,  "should  anybody  be  sad,  when 
I  in  reality  am  so  thoroughly  happy?" 

Prince  Ivan  PetrofTsky  had  left  Paris,  but  his  carriage, 
drawn  by  two  prancing  Russian  steeds,  followed  the  hearse 
at  a  respectful  distance,  as  also  the  carriages  of  Dr.  Morini, 
and  some  other  private  persons  known  to  Heliobas.  A  few 
})cople  attended  it  on  foot,  and  these  were  chiefly  from  among 
the  very  poor,  some  of  whom  had  benefited  by  Zara's  charity 
or  her  larothcr's  medical  skill,  and  had  heard  of  the  calamity 
through  rumor,  or  through  tlie  columns  of  the  Figaro,  where 
it  was  reported  with  graphic  brevity.  The  weather  was  still 
misty,  and  the  fiery  sun  seemed  to  shine  through  tears  as 
Father  Paul,  with  his  assistant,  read  in  solemn  yet  cheerful 
tones  the  service  for  the  dead  according  to  the  Catholic 


232  A  ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS. 

ritual.  One  of  the  chief  mourners  at  the  grave  was  the  faith- 
ful Leo;  who,  without  obtruding  himself  in  anyone's  way, 
sat  at  a  little  distance,  and  seemed,  by  the  confiding  look 
with  which  he  turned  his  eyes  upon  his  master,  to  thor- 
oughly understand  that  he  must  henceforth  devote  his  life' 
entirely  to  ]nm  alone.  The  coffin  was  lowered,  the  '•Requiem 
aeternam"  spoken — all  was  over.  Those  assembled  shook 
hands  quietly  with  Heliobas,  saluted  each  other,  and  gradu- 
ally dispersed.  I  entered  a  carriage  and  drove  back  to  the 
Hotel  Mars,  leaving  Heliobas  in  the  cemetery  to  give  his 
final  instructions  for  the  ornamentation  and  decoration  of  his 
sister's  grave. 

The  little  page  served  me  with  some  luncheon  in  my  own 
apartment,  and  by  the  time  all  was  ready  for  my  departure, 
Heliobas  returned.  I  went  down  to  him  in  his  study,  and 
found  him  sitting  pensively  in  his  arm-chair,  absorbed  in 
thought.  He  looked  sad  and  solitary,  and  my  whole  heart 
went  out  to  him  in  gratitude  and  sympathy.  I  knelt  beside 
him  as  a  daughter  might  have  done,  and  softly  kissed  his 
hand. 

He  started  as  though  awakened  suddenly  from  sleep,  and 
seeing  me,  his  eyes  softened,  and  he  smiled  gravely. 

"Are  you  come  to  say  'Good-bye,'  my  child,"  he  asked 
in  a  kind  tone.     "Well,  your  mission  here  is  ended!" 

"Had  I  any  mission  at  all,"  I  replied,  with  a  grateful 
look,  "save  the  very  selfish  one  which  was  comprised  in  the 
natural  desire  to  be  restored  to  health?" 

Heliobas  surveyed  me  for  a  few  moments  in  silence. 

"Were  I  to  tell  you,"  he  said  at  last,  "by  what  mystical 
authority  and  influence  you  were  compelled  to  come  here,  by 
what  a  marvelously  linked  chain  of  circumstances  you  became 
known  to  me  long  before  I  saw  you;  how  I  was  made  aware 
that  you  were  the  only  woman  living  to  whose  companionship 
I  could  trust  my  sister  at  a  time  when  the  society  of  one  of 
her  own  sex  became  absolutely  necessary  to  her;  how  you 
were  marked  out  to  me  as  a  small  point  of  light  by  which 
possibly  I  might  steer  my  course  clear  of  the  darkness  which 
threatened  me — I  say,  were  I  to  tell  you  all  this,  you  would 
no  longer  doubt  the  urgent  need  of  your  presence  here.  It 
is,  however,  enough  to  tell  you  that  you  have  fulfilled  all 
that  was  expected  of  you,  even  beyond  my  best  hopes;  and 
in  return  for  your  services,  the  worth  of  which  you  cannot 


A  ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  233 

realize,  whatever  guidance  I  can  give  you  in  the  future  for 
your  physical  and  spiritual  life,  is  yours.  I  have  done  some- 
thing for  you,  but  not  much — I  will  do  more.  Only,  in  com- 
municating with  me,  I  ask  you  to  honor  me  with  your  full 
confidence  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  yourself  and  your 
surroundings — then  I  shall  not  be  liable  to  errors  of  judg- 
ment in  the  opinions  I  form  or  the  advice  I  give." 

"I  promise  most  readily,"  I  replied  gladly,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  was  rich  in  possessing  as  a  friend  and  coun- 
sellor such  a  man  as  this  student  of  the  loftiest  sciences. 

"And  now  one  thing  more,"  he  resumed,  opening  a  drawer 
in  the  table  near  which  he  sat.  "Here  is  a  pencil  for  you 
to  write  your  letters  to  me  with.  It  will  last  about  ten  years, 
and  at  the  expiration  of  that  time  you  can  have  another. 
AVrite  with  it  on  any  paper,  and  the  marks  will  be  like  those 
of  an  ordinary  drawing-pencil;  but  as  fast  as  they  are  written 
they  disappear.  Trouble  not  about  this  circumstance — write 
all  you  have  to  say,  and  when  you  have  finished  your  letter 
your  closely  covered  pages  shall  seem  blank.  Therefore, 
were  the  eye  of  a  stranger  to  look  at  them,  nothing  could 
be  learned  therefrom.  But  when  they  reach  me,  I  can  make 
the  writing  appear  and  stand  out  on  these  apparently  unsul- 
lied pages  as  distinctly  as  though  your  words  had  been  printed. 
My  letters  to  you  will  also,  when  you  receive  them,  appear 
blank;  but  you  will  only  have  to  press  them  for  about  ten 
minutes  in  this" — and  he  handed  me  what  looked  like  an 
ordinary  blotting-book — "and  they  will  be  perfectly  legible. 
Cellini  has  these  little  writing  implements;  he  uses  them 
whenever  the  distances  are  too  great  for  us  to  amuse  our- 
selves with  the  sagacity  of  Leo — in  fact  the  journeys  of  that 
faithful  animal  have  principally  been  to  keep  him  in  train- 
ing." 

"But,"  I  said,  as  I  took  the  pencil  and  book  from  his  hand, 
"why  do  you  not  make  these  convenient  writing  materials 
public  property?    They  would  be  so  useful." 

"Why  should  I  build  up  a  fortune  for  some  needy  sta- 
tioner?" he  asked,  with  a  half-smile.  "Besides,  they  are  not 
new  things.  They  were  known  to  the  ancients,  and  many 
secret  letters,  laws,  histories,  and  poems  were  written  with 
instruments  such  as  these.  In  an  old  library,  destroyed  more 
than  two  centuries  ago,  there  was  a  goodly  pile  of  apparently 
blank  parchment.    Had  I  lived  then  and  known  what  I  know 


234  A    ROM'ANCE    OP    TWO    WORLDS. 

now,  I  could  have  made  the  white  pages  declare  their  mys- 
tery." 

"Has  this  also  to  do  with  electricity?"  I  asked. 

"Certainly — with  what  is  called  vegetable  electricity.  There, 
is  not  a  plant  or  herb  in  existence  but  has  almost  a  miracle 
hidden  away  in  its  tiny  cup  or  spreading  leavCvS — do  you 
doubt  it?" 

"Not  I!"  I  answered  quickly.     ''I  doubt  nothing!" 

Heliobas  smiled  gravely. 

"You  are  right!"  he  "said.  "Doubt  is  the  destroyer  of 
beauty — the  poison  in  the  sweet  cup  of  existence — the  curse 
which  mankind  have  brought  on  themselves.  Avoid  it  as 
you  would  the  plague.  Believe  in  anything  or  everything 
miraculous  and  glorious — the  utmost  reach  of  your  faith  can 
with  difhculty  grasp  the  majestic  reahty  and  perfection  of 
everything  you  can  see,  desire,  or  imagine.  Mistrust  that 
volatile  thing  called  Human  Eeason,  which  is  merely  a  name 
for  whatever  opinion  we  happen  to  adopt  for  the  time — ^it 
is  a  thing  which  totters  on  its  throne  in  a  fit  of  rage  or  despair 
— there  is  nothing  infinite  about  it.  Guide  yourself  by  the 
delicate  Spiritual  Instinct  within  you,  which  tells  you  that 
with  God  all  things  are  possible,  save  that  He  cannot  destroy 
Himself  or  lessen  by  o-ne  spark  the  fiery  brilliancy  of  his  ever- 
widening  circle  of  productive  Intelligence.  But  make  no 
attempt  to  convert  the  world  to  your  way  of  thinking — it 
would  be  mere  waste  of  time." 

"May  I  never  try  to  instruct  anyone  in  these  things?"  I 
asked. 

"You  can  try,  if  you  choose;  but  you  will  find  most  human 
beiugs  like  the  herd  of  swine  in  the  Gospel,  possessed  by 
devils  that  drive  them  headlong  into  the  sea.  You  know,  for 
instance,  that  angels  and  aerial  spirits  actually  exist;  but 
were  you  to  assert  your  belief  in  them,  philosophers  (so-called) 
would  scout  your  theories  as  absurd, — though  their  idea  of 
a  lonely  God,  who  yet  is  Love,  is  the  very  acme  of  absurdity. 
For  Love  must  have  somewhat  to  love,  and  must  create  the 
beauty  and  happiness  round  itself  and  the  things  beloved. 
But  why  point  out  these  simple  things  to  those  who  have 
no  desire  to  see?  Be  content,  child,  that  you  have  been 
deemed  worthy  of  instruction — it  is  a  higher  fate  for  you  than 
if  you  had  been  made  a  Quoeu." 

The  little  page  now  entered,  and  told  me  that  the  carriage 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  285 

was  at  the  door  in  waiting.  As  he  disappeared  again  after 
delivering  this  message,  Heliobas  rose  from  liis  chair,  and 
taldng  mj^  two  hands  in  his,  pressed  them  kindly. 

''One  word  more,  little  friend,  on  the  subject  of  your  career. 
I  think  the  time  will  come  when  you  will  feel  that  music 
is  almost  too  sacred  a  thing  to  be  given  away  for  money  to 
a  careless  and  promiscuous  public.  However  this  may  be, 
rwnember  that  scarce  one  of  the  self-styled  artists  who  cater 
for  the  crowd  deserves  to  be  called  musician  in  the  highest 
sense  of  the  word.  Most  of  them  seek  not  music,  but  money 
and  applause;  and  therefore  the  art  they  profess  is  degraded 
by  them  into  a  mere  trade.  J3ut  you,  when  you  play  in  public, 
must  forget  that  persons  with  little  vanities  and  lesser  opin- 
ions exist.  Think  of  what  you  saw  in  your  journey  with  Azul; 
and  by  a  strong  effort  of  your  will,  you  can,  if  you  choose, 
compel  certain  harmonies  to  sound  in  your  ears — fragments 
of  what  is  common  breathing  air  to  the  C*hildren  of  the  Ring, 
some  of  whom  you  saw — and  you  will  be  able  to  reproduce 
them  in  part,  if  not  in  entirety.  But  if  you  once  admit  a 
thought  of  Self  to  enter  your  brain,  those  aerial  sounds  will 
be  silenced  instantly.  By  this  means,  too,  you  can  judge 
Avho  are  the  true  disciples  of  music  in  this  world — those  who, 
like  Schubert  and  Chopin,  suffered  the  heaven-born  melodies 
to  descend  through  them  as  though  they  were  mere  con- 
ductors of  sound;  or  those  who,  feebly  imitating  other  com- 
posers, measure  out  crotchets  and  quavers  by  rule  and  line, 
and  flood  the  world  with  inane  and  perishable,  and  therefore 
useless,  productions.     And  now, — farewell." 

"Do  you  remain  in  Paris?"  I  asked. 

*'Tor  a  few  days  only.  I  shall  go  to  Egypt,  and  in  travel- 
ing accustom  myself  to  the  solitude  in  which  I  nnist  dwell, 
now  Zara  has  left  me." 

"You  have  Azul,"  I  ventured  to  remaik. 

"Ah!  but  how  often  do  I  see  her?  Only  when  my  soul 
for  an  instant  is  clear  from  all  earthly  and  gross  obstruction; 
and  how  seldom  I  can  attain  to  this  result  while  weighted 
with  my  body!  But  she  is  near  me — that  I  know — faithful 
as  the  star  to  the  mariner's  compass!" 

He  raised  his  head  as  he  spoke,  and  his  eyes  flashed. 
Never  had  I  seen  him  look  more  noble  or  kingly.  The 
inspired  radiance  of  his  face  softened  down  into  his  usual 


236  A  ROMANCE   OP   TWO   WORLDS. 

expression  of  gentleness  and  courtesy,  and  he  said,  offering 
me  his  arm: 

"Let  me  see  you  to  the  carriage.  You  know,  it  is  not  an 
actual  parting  with  us — I  intend  that  we  shall  meet  fre- 
quently. For  instance,  the  next  time  we  exchange  pleasant 
greetings  will  be  in  Italy." 

I  suppose  I  looked  surprised;  I  certainly  felt  so,  for  noth- 
ing was  further  from  my  thoughts  than  a  visit  to  Italy. 

Heliobas  smiled,  and  said  in  a  tone  that  was  almost  gay: 

"Shall  I  draw  the  picture  for  you?  I  see  a  fair  city,  deep 
embowered  in  hills  and  sheltered  by  olive-groves.  Over  it 
beams  a  broad  sky,  deeply  blue;  many  soft  bells  caress  the 
summer  air.  Away  in  the  Cascine  Woods  a  gay  party  of 
people  are  seated  on  the  velvety  moss;  they  have  mandolins, 
and  they  sing  for  pure  gaiety  of  heart.  One  of  them,  a  woman 
with  fair  hair,  arrayed  in  white,  with  a  red  rose  at  her*bosom, 
is  gathering  the  wild  flowers  that  bloom  around  her,  and 
weaving  them  into  posies  for  her  companions.  A  stranger, 
pacing  slowly,  book  in  hand,  through  the  shady  avenue,  sees 
her — her  eyes  meet  his.  She  springs  up  to  greet  him;  he 
takes  her  hand.  The  woman  is  yourself;  the  stranger  no 
other  than  your  poor  friend,  who  now,  for  a  brief  space, 
takes  leave  of  you!" 

So  rapidly  had  he  drawn  up  this  picture,  that  the  impres- 
sion made  on  me  was  as  though  a  sudden  vision  had  been 
shown  to  me  in  a  magic  glass.    I  looked  at  him  earnestly. 

"Then  our  next  meeting  will  be  happy?"  I  said  inquir- 
ingly. 

"Of  course.  Why  not?  And  the  next — and  the  next  after 
that  also!"  he  answered. 

At  this  reply,  so  frankly  given,  I  was  relieved,  and  accom- 
panied him  readily  through  the  hall  towards  the  street-door. 
Leo  met  us  here,  and  intimated,  as  plainly  as  a  human  being 
could  have  done,  his  wish  to  bid  me  good-bye.  I  stooped  and 
kissed  his  broad  head  and  patted  him  affectionately,  and  was 
rewarded  for  these  attentions  by  seeing  his  plume-like  tail 
wave  slowly  to  and  fro — a  sign  of  pleasure  the  poor  animal 
had  not  betrayed  since  Zara's  departure  from  the  scene  of 
her  earthly  imprisonment. 

At  the  door  the  pretty  Greek  boy  handed  me  a  huge  basket 
of  the  loveliest  flowers. 

"The  last  from  the  conservatory,"  said  Heliobas.  "I  shall 
need  no  more  of  these  luxuries." 


A   ROMANCE   OP    TWO   WORLDS.  237 

As  I  entered  the  carriage  he  placed  the  flowers  beside  me, 
and  again  took  my  hand. 

"Good-bye,  my  child!"  he  said,  in  earnest  and  kindly  tones. 
"I  have  your  address,  and  will  write  you  all  my  movements. 
In  any  trouble,  small  or  great,  of  your  own,  send  to  me  for 
advice  without  hesitation.  I  can  tell  you  already  that  I 
foresee  the  time  when  you  will  resign  altogether  the  pre- 
carious and  unsatisfactory  life  of  a  mere  professional  musi- 
cian. You  think  no  other  career  would  he  possible  to  you? 
Well,  you  will  see!  A  few  months  will  decide  all.  Good-bye 
again;   God  bless  you!" 

The  carriage  moved  off,  and  Heliobas  stood  on  the  steps 
of  his  mansion  watching  it  out  of  sight.  To  the  last  I  saw 
his  stately  figure  erect  in  the  light  of  the  winter  sunshine — 
a  figure  destined  from  henceforth  to  occupy  a  prominent 
position  in  my  life  and  memory.  The  regret  I  felt  at  parting 
from  him  was  greatly  mitigated  by  the  assurance  he  gave 
me  of  our  future  meeting,  a  promise  which  has  since  been 
fulfilled,  and  is  likely  soon  to  be  fulfilled  again.  That  I 
have  such  a  friend  is  an  advantageous  circumstance  for  me, 
for  through  his  guidance  I  am  able  to  judge  accurately  of 
many  things  occurring  in  the  course  of  the  daily  life  around 
me— things  which,  seemingly  trivial,  are  the  hints  of  serious 
results  to  come,  which  I  am  thug  permitted  in  part  to  foresee. 
There  is  a  drawback,  of  course,  and  the  one  bitter  drop  in 
the  cup  of  knowledge  is,  that  the  more  I  progress  under  the 
tuition  of  Heliobas,  the  less  am  I  deceived  by  graceful  appear- 
ances. I  perceive  with  almost  cruel  suddenness  the  true  char- 
acters of  all  those  whom  I  meet.  No  smile  of  lip  or  eye  can 
delude  me  into  accepting  mere  surface-matter  for  real  depth, 
and  it  is  intensely  painful  for  me  to  be  forced  to  behold 
hypocrisy  in  the  expression  of  the  apparently  devout — sen- 
suality in  the  face  of  some  radiantly  beautiful  and  popular 
woman- — vice  under  the  mask  of  virtue — self-interest  in  the 
guise  of  friendship,  and  spite  and  malice  springing  up  like 
a  poisonous  undergrowth  beneath  the  words  of  elegant  flat- 
tery or  dainty  compliment.  I  often  wish  I  could  throw  a 
rose-colored  mist  of  illusion  over  all  these  things  and  still 
more  earnestly  do  I  wish  I  could  in  a  single  instance  find 
myself  mistaken.  But  alas!  the  fatal  finger  of  the  electric 
instinct  within  me  points  out  unerringly  the  flaw  in  every 
human  diamond,  and  writes  "Sham"  across  many  a  cunningly 


238  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO   WORLDS. 

contrived  imitation  of  intelligence  and  goodness.  Still,  the 
grief  I  feel  at  this  is  counterbalanced  in  part  by  the  joy  with 
which  I  quickly  recognize  real  virtue,  real  nobility,  real  love; 
and  when  these  attributes  flash  out  upon  me  from  the  faces 
of  human  beings,  my  own  soul  warms,  and  I  know  I  have 
seen  a  vision  as  of  angels.  The  capability  of  Heliobas  to 
foretell  future  events  proved  itself  in  his  knowledge  of  the 
fate  of  the  famous  English  hero,  Gordon,  long  before  that 
brave  soldier  met  his  doom.  At  the  time  the  English  Gov- 
ernment sent  him  out  on  his  last  fatal  mission,  a  letter  from 
Heliobas  to  me  contained  the  following  passage: 

"I  see  Gordon  has  chosen  Ms  destiny  and  the  manner  of 
his  death.  Two  ways  of  dying  have  been  offered  him — one 
that  is  slow,  painful,  and  inglorious;  the  other  sudden,  and 
therefore  sweeter  to  a  man  of  his  temperament.  He  himself 
is  perfectly  aware  of  the  approaching  end  of  his  career;  he 
will  receive  his  release  at  Khartoum.  England  will  lament 
over  him  for  a  little  while,  and  then  he  will  be  declared  an 
inspired  madman,  who  rushed  recklessly  on  his  own  doom; 
while  those  who  allowed  him  to  be  slain  will  be  voted  the 
wisest,  the  most  just  and  virtuous  in  the  realm." 

This  prophecy  was  carried  out  to  the  letter,  as  I  fully 
believe  certain  things  of  which  I  am  now  informed  will 
also  be  fulfilled.  But  though  there  are  persons  who  pin 
their  faith  on  *'Zadkiel,"  I  doubt  if  there  are  any  who  will 
believe  in  such  a  thing  as  electric  divination.  The  one  is 
mere  vulgar  imposture,  the  other  is  performed  on  a  purely 
scientific  basis  in  accordance  with  certain  existing  rules  and 
principles;  yet  I  think  there  can  be  no  question  as  to  which 
of  the  two  the  public  en  masse  is  likely  to  prefer.  On  the 
whole,  people  do  not  mind  being  deceived;  they  hate  being 
instructed,  and  the  trouble  of  thinking  for  themselves  is 
almost  too  much  for  them.  Therefore  "Zadkiel"  is  certain  to 
flourish  for  many  and  many  a  long  day,  while  the  lightning 
instinct  of  prophecy  dormant  in  every  human  being  remains 
unused  and  utterly  forgotten  except  by  the  rare  few. 

*  *  Jj:  5iS  s!s  *  *  * 

I  have  little  more  to  say.  I  feel  that  those  among  my 
readers  who  idly  turn  over  these  pages,  expecting  to  find  a 
"novel"  in  the  true  acceptation  of  the  term,  may  be  dis- 


A    ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS.  230 

appointed.  My  naiiative  is  simply  an  "experience:"  but  1 
have  no  wish  to  persuade  others  of  the  central  truth  con- 
tained in  it — naniel)^  the  existence  of  powerful  electric  organs 
in  every  human  being,  which  with  proper  cultivation  are 
capable  of  marvelous  spiritual  force.  The  time  is  not  yet 
ripe  for  this  fact  to  be  accepted. 

The  persons  connected  with  this  story  may  be  dismissed 
in  a  few  words.  When  I  joined  my  friend  Mrs.  Everard,  she 
was  suffering  from  nervous  hysteria.  My  presence  had  the 
soothing  effect  Heliobas  had  assured  me  of,  and  in  a  very 
few  days  we  started  from  Paris  in  company  for  England.  She, 
with  her  amiable  and  accomplished  husband,  went  back  to 
the  States  a  few  months  since  to  claim  an  immense  fortune, 
which  they  are  now  enjoying  as  most  Americans  enjoy  wealth. 
Amy  has  diamonds  to  her  heart's  content,  and  toilettes  galore 
from  Worth's;  but  she  has  no  children,  and  from  the  tone 
of  her  letters  to  me,  I  fancy  she  would  part  with  one  at  least 
of  her  valuable  necklaces  to  have  a  small  pair  of  chubby  arms 
round  her  neck,  and  a  soft  little  head  nestling  against  her 
bosom. 

Eaffaello  Cellini  still  lives  and  works;  his  paintings  are 
among  the  marvels  of  modern  Italy  for  their  richness  and 
warmth  of  color — color  which,  in  spite  of  his  envious  de- 
tractors, is  destined  to  last  through  ages.  He  is  not  very 
rich,  for  he  is  one  of  those  who  give  away  their  substance 
to  the  poor  and  the  distressed;  but  where  he  is  known  he  is 
universally  beloved.  None  of  his  pictures  have  yet  been 
exhibited  in  England,  and  he  is  in  no  hurry  to  call  upon 
the  London  critics  for  their  judgment.  He  has  been  asked 
several  times  to  sell  his  largo  picture,  ''Lords  of  our  Life  and 
Death,"  but  he  will  not.  I  have  never  met  him  since  our 
intercourse  at  Cannes,  but  I  hear  of  him  frequently  through 
Pleliobas,  who  has  recently  forwarded  me  a  proof  engraving 
of  the  picture  "L'Improvisatrice,"  for  which  I  sat  as  model. 
It  is  a  beautiful  work  of  art,  but  that  it  is  like  me  I  am  not 
vain  enough  to  admit.  I  keep  it,  not  as  a  portrait  of  myself, 
but  as  a  souvenir  of  the  man  through  whose  introduction  I 
gained  the  best  friend  I  have. 

News  of  Prince  Ivan  Petroffsky  reaches  me  frequently. 
He  is  possessor  of  the  immense  wealth  foretold  by  Heliobas; 
ilie  eyes  of  Society  greedily  follow  his  movements;  his  name 
figures  conspicuously  in  the  "Fashionable  Intelligence";  and 


240  A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO    WORLDS. 

the  magpificence  of  his  recent  marriage  festivities  was  for 
some  time  the  talk  of  the  Continent.  He  has  married  the 
only  daughter  of  a  French  Duke — a  lovely  creature,  as  soul- 
less and  heartless  as  a  dressmaker's  stuffed  model;  but  she 
carries  his  jewels  well  on  her  white  bosom,  and  receives  his 
guests  with  as  much  dignity  as  a  well-trained  major-domo. 
These  qualities  suffice  to  satisfy  her  husband  at  present;  how 
long  his  satisfaction  will  last  is  another  matter.  He  has 
not  quite  forgotten  Zara;  for  on  every  recurring  Jour  des 
Morfs,  or  Feast  of  the  Dead,  he  sends  a  garland  or  cross  of 
flowers  to  the  simple  grave  in  Pere-la-Chaise.  Heliobas 
watches  his  career  with  untiring  vigilance;  nor  can  I  myself 
avoid  taking  a  certain  interest  in  the  progress  of  his  fate. 
At  the  moment  I  write  he  is  one  of  the  most  envied  and  pop- 
ular noblemen  in  all  the  Eoyal  Courts  of  Europe;  and  no 
one  thinks  of  asking  him  whether  he  is  happy.  He  must 
be  happy,  says  the  world;  he  has  everything  that  is  needed 
to  make  him  so.  Everything?  yes — all  except  one  thing, 
for  which  he  will  long  when  the  shadow  of  the  end  draws 
near. 

And  now  what  else  remains?  A  brief  farewell  to  those 
who  have  perused  this  narrative,  or  a  lingering  parting  word? 

In  these  days  of  haste  and  scramble,  when  there  is  no  time 
for  faith,  is  there  time  for  sentiment?  I  think  not.  And 
therefore  there  shall  be  none  between  my  readers  and  me, 
save  this — a  friendly  warning.  Belief — ^belief  in  God — belief 
in  all  things  noble,  unworldly,  lofty,  and  beautiful,  is  rapidly 
being  crushed  underfoot  by — what?  By  mere  lust  of  gain! 
Be  sure,  good  people,  be  very  sure  that  you  are  right  in  deny- 
ing God  for  the  sake  of  man — in  abjuring  the  spiritual  for 
the  material — before  you  rush  recklessly  onward.  The  end 
for  all  of  you  can  be  but  death;  and  are  you  quite  positive 
after  all  that  there  is  no  Hereafter?  Is  it  sense  to  imagine 
that  the  immense  machinery  of  the  Universe  has  been  set 
in  motion  for  nothing?  Is  it  even  common  reason  to  consider 
that  the  Soul  of  man,  with  all  its  high  musings,  its  dreams 
of  unseen  glory,  its  longings  after  the  Infinite,  is  a  mere 
useless  vapor,  or  a  set  of  shifting  molecules  in  a  perishable 
brain?  The  mere  fact  of  the  existence  of  a  desire  clearly 
inrlicates  an  equally  existincr  capacity  for  the  gratification  of 
that  desire;  therefore,  I  ask,  would  the  wish  for  a  future 
state  of  being,  which  is  secretly  felt  by  every  one  of  us,  have 


A   ROMANCE   OF   TWO   WORLDS.  241 

been  permitted  to  find  a  place  in  our  natures,  if  there  were 
no  possible  means  of  granting  it?  Why  all  this  discontent 
with  the  present — why  all  this  universal  complaint  and 
despair  and  world-weariness,  if  there  be  no  hereafter?  For 
my  own  part,  I  have  told  you  frankly  what  I  have  seen  and 
what  I  know;  but  I  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  me.  I  only 
say,  if — if  you  admit  to  yourselves  the  possibility  of  a  future 
and  eternal  state  of  existence,  would  it  not  be  well  for  you 
to  inquire  seriously  how  you  are  preparing  for  it  in  these 
wild  days?  Look  at  society  around  you,  and  ask  yourselves: 
Whither  is  our  "Progress"  tending — Forward  or  Backward — 
Upward  or  Downward?  Which  way?  Fight  the  problem  out. 
Do  not  glance  at  it  casually,  or  put  it  away  as  an  unpleasant 
thought,  or  a  consideration  involving  too  much  trouble — 
struggle  with  it  bravely  till  you  resolve  it,  and  whatever  the 
answer  may  be,  abide  by  it.  If  it  leads  you  to  deny  God 
and  the  immortal  destinies  of  your  own  souls,  and  you  find 
hereafter,  when  it  is  too  late,  that  both  God  and  immortality 
exist,  you  have  only  yourselves  to  blame.  We  are  the  arbiters 
of  our  own  fate,  and  that  fact  is  the  most  important  one  of 
our  lives.  Our  will  is  positively  unfettered;  it  is  a  rudder 
put  freely  into  our  hands,  and  with  it  we  can  steer  wherever 
we  choose.  God  will  not  compel  our  love  or  obedience.  We 
must  ourselves  desire  to  love  and  obey — desire  it  above  all 
things  in  the  world. 

As  for  the  Electric  Origin  of  the  Universe,  a  time  is  coming 
when  scientific  men  will  acknowledge  it  to  be  the  only  theory 
of  Creation  worthy  of  acceptance.  All  the  wonders  of  Na- 
ture are  the  result  of  light  and  heat  alone — i.  e.,  are  the  work 
of  the  Electric  Eing  I  have  endeavored  to  describe,  which 
must  go  on  producing,  absorbing  and  reproducing  worlds, 
suns  and  systems  forever  and  ever.  The  Eing,  in  its  turn, 
is  merely  the  outcome  of  God's  own  personality — the  atmos- 
phere surrounding  the  World  in  which  He  has  His  exist- 
ence— a  World  created  by  Love  and  for  Love  alone.  I  cannot 
force  this  theory  on  public  attention,  which  is  at  present 
claimed  by  various  learned  professors,  who  give  ingenious 
explanations  of  "atoms"  and  "molecules";  yet,  even  regard- 
ing these  same  "atoms,"  the  mild  question  may  be  put:  Wliere 
did  the  first  "atom"  come  from?  Some  may  answer:  "We 
call  the  first  atom  God."  Surely  it  is  as  well  to  call  Him  a 
Spirit  of  pure  Light  as  an  atom?    However,  the  fact  of  one 

16 


/7 


242  A   ROMANCE    OF    TWO    WORLDS. 

person's  being  convinced  of  a  truth  will  not,  I  am  aware, 
go  very  far  to  convince  others.  I  have  related  m}^  "expe- 
rience" exactly  as  it  happened  at  the  time,  and  my  readers 
can  accept  or  deny  the  theories  of  Heliobas  as  they  please. 
Xeither  denial,  acceptance,  criticism,  nor  incredulity  can  affect 
me  personally,  inasmuch  as  I  am  not  Heliobas,  but  simply 
the  narrator  of  an  episode  connected  with  him;  and  as  such, 
my  task  is  finished. 


APPENDIX. 


[In  publishing  these  selections  from  letters  received  con- 
cerning the  ''Romance/'  I  am  in  honor  bound  not  to  disclose 
the  names  of  my  correspondents,  and  this  necessary  reticence 
will  no  doubt  induce  the  incredulous  to  declare  that  they 
are  not  genuine  epistles,  but  mere  inventions  of  my  own. 
I  am  quite  prepared  for  such  a  possible  aspersion,  and  in 
reply,  I  can  but  say  that  I  hold  the  originals  in  my  posses- 
sion, and  that  some  of  them  have  been  read  by  my  friend 
Mr,  George  Bentle}',  under  whose  auspices  this  book  has  been 
successfully  launched  on  the  sea  of  public  favor.  I  may  add 
that  my  correspondents  are  all  strangers  to  me  personally — 
not  one  of  them  have  I  ever  met.  A  few  have  indeed  asked  me 
to  accord  them  interviews,  but  this  request  I  invariably  deny, 
not  wishing  to  set  myself  forward  in  any  way  as  an  exponent 
of  high  doctrine  in  which  I  am  as  yet  but  a  beginner  and 
student. — Author.]      * 

LETTER  I. 
"Dear  Madam, 

"You  must  receive  so  many  letters  that  I  feel  it  is 
almost  a  shame  to  add  to  the  number,  but  I  cannot  resist 
writing  to  tell  you  how  very  much  your  book,  'The  Romance 

of  Two  "Worlds,'  has  helped  me.    My  dear  friend  Miss  F , 

who  has  written  to  you  lately  I  believe,  first  read  it  to  me, 
and  I  cannot  tell  you  what  a  want  in  my  life  it  seemed  to 
fill  up.  I  have  been  always  interested  in  the  so-called  Super- 
natural, feeling  very  conscious  of  depths  in  my  own  self  and 
in  others  that  are  usually  ignored.  ...  I  have  been  reading 
as  many  books  as  I  could  obtain  upon  Theosophy,  but  though 
thankful  for  the  high  thoughts  I  found  in  them,  I  still  felt 
a  great  want — that  of  combining  this  occult  knowledge  with 
my  own  firm  belief  in  the  Christian  religion.  Your  book 
seemed  to  give  me  just  what  I  wanted — it  has  deepened  and 
strengthened  my  belief  in  and  love  to  God,  and  has  made  the 
Xew  Testament  a  new  book  to  me.  Things  which  I  could 
not  understand  before  seem  clear  in  the  light  which  your 
•Vision'  has  thrown  upon  them,  and  I  cannot  remain  satisfied 

243 


244  APPENDIX. 

without  expressing  to  you  my  sincere  gratitude.  May  your 
book  be  read  by  all  who  are  ready  to  receive  the  high  truths 
that  it  contains!    With  thanks,  I  remain,  dear  Madam, 

"Yours  sincerely, 

"M.  S." 


LETTER  II. 
*TVIadam, 

"I  am  afraid  you  will  think  it  very  presumptuous  of 
a  stranger  to  address  you,  but  I  have  lately  read  your  book, 
*A  Romance  of  Two  Worlds,'  and  have  been  much  struck 
with  it.  It  has  opened  my  mind  to  such  new  impressions, 
and  seems  to  be  so  much  what  I  have  been  groping  for  so 
long,  that  I  thought  if  you  would  be  kind  enough  to  answer 
this,  I  might  get  a  firmer  hold  on  those  higher  things  and 
be  at  anchor  at  last.  If  you  have  patience  to  read  so  far, 
you  will  imagine  I  must  be  very  much  in  earnest  to  intrude 
myself  on  you  like  this,  but  from  the  tone  of  your  book  I 
do  not  believe  you  would  withdraw  your  hand  where  you 
could  do  good.  ...  I  never  thought  of  or  read  of  the  electric 
force  (or  spirit)  in  every  human  being  before,  but  I  do  believe 
in  it  after  reading  your  book,  and  you  have  made  the  next 
world  a  living  thing  to  me,  and  raised  my  feelings  above  the 
disappointments  and  trials  of  this  life.  .  .  .  Your  book  was 
put  into  my  hands  at  a  time  when  I  was  deeply  distressed  and 
in  trouble  about  my  future;  but  you  have  shown  me  how 
small  a  thing  this  future  of  our  life  is.  .  .  .  Would  it  be 
asking  too  much  of  you  to  name  any  books  you  think  might 
help  me  in  this  new  vein  of  thought  you  have  given  me? 
Apologizing  for  having  written,  believe  me  yours  sincerely, 

"B.  W.  L." 

[I  answered  to  the  best  of  my  ability  the  writer  of  the 
above,  and  later  on  received  another  letter  as  follows:] 

"Forgive  my  writing  to  you  again  on  the  subject  of  your 
^Romance,'  but  I  read  it  so  often  and  think  of  it  so  much. 
I  cannot  say  the  wonderful  change  your  book  has  wrought 
in  my  life,  and  though  very  likely  you  are  constantly  hearing 
of  the  good  it  has  done,  yet  it  cannot  but  be  the  sweetest  thing 


APPENDIX.  245 

3'Oti  can  hear — that  the  seed  you  have  phmted  is  hringing 
forth  so  much  fruit.  .  .  .  The  Bible  is  a  new  book  to  me 
since  your  work  came  into  my  hands." 


LETTER  III. 

[The  following  terribly  pathetic  avowal  is  from  a  clergyman 
of  the  Church  of  England:] 

"Madam, 

"Your  book,  the  'Eomance  of  Two  Worlds,'  has  stopped 
me  on  the  brink  of  what  is  doubtless  a  crime,  and  yet  I  had 
come  to  think  it  the  only  way  out  of  impending  madness. 
I  speak  of  self-destruction — suicide.  And  while  writing  the 
word,  I  beg  of  you  to  accept  my  gratitude  for  the  timely  rescue 
of  my  soul.  Once  I  believed  in  the  goodness  of  God — but  of 
late  years  the  cry  of  modern  scientific  atheism,  'There  is  no 
God,'  has  rung  in  my  ears  till  my  brain  has  reeled  at  the 
desolation  and  nothingness  of  the  Universe.  No  good,  no 
hope,  no  satisfaction  in  anything — this  world  only  with  all 
its  mocker}^  and  failure — and  afterwards  annihilation!  Could 
a  God  design  and  create  so  poor  and  cruel  a  jest?  So  I. 
thought — and  the  misery  of  the  thought  was  more  than  I 
could  bear.  I  had  resolved  to  make  an  end.  No  one  knew, 
no  one  guessed  my  intent,  till  one  Sunday  afternoon  a  friend 
lent  me  your  book.  I  began  to  read,  and  never  left  it  till  I 
had  finished  the  last  page — then  I  knew  I  was  saved.  Life 
smiled  again  upon  me  in  consoling  colors,  and  I  write  to  tell 
you  that  whatever  other  good  your  work  may  do  and  is  no 
doubt  doing,  you  have  saved  both  the  life  and  reason  of  one 
grateful  human  being.  If  you  will  write  to  me  a  few  lines 
I  shall  be  still  more  grateful,  for  I  feel  you  can  help  me. 
I  seem  to  have  read  Christ's  mission  wrong — but  with  patience 
and  prayer  it  is  possible  to  redeem  my  error.  Once  more 
thanking  you,  I  am, 

"Yours  with  more  thankfulness  than  I  can  write, 

"L.  E.  F." 

[I  lost  no  time  in  repljdng  to  this  letter,  and  since  then 
have  frequently  corresponded  with  the  writer,  from  whose 


246  APPENDIX. 

troubled  mkid  the  dark  cloud  has  now  entirely  departed. 
And  I  may  here  venture  to  remark  that  the  evils  of  "modern 
scientific  atheism"  are  far  more  widely  spread  and  deeply 
rooted  than  the  majority  of  persons  are  aware  of,  and  that 
many  of  the  apparently  inexplicable  eases  of  self-slaughter 
on  which  the  formal  verdict,  "Suicide  during  a  state  of  tem- 
porary insanity,"  is  passed,  have  been  caused  by  long  and 
hopeless  brooding  on  the  "nothingness  of  the  Universe" — 
which,  if  it  were  a  true  theory,  would  indeed  make  of  Creation 
a  bitter,  nay,  even  a  senseless  jest.  The  cruel  preachers  of 
such  a  creed  have  much  to  answer  for.  The  murderer  who 
destroys  human  life  for  wicked  passion  and  wantonness  is 
less  criminal  than  the  proudly  learned,  yet  egotistical,  and 
therefore  densely  ignorant  scientist,  who,  seeking  to  crush 
the  soul  by  his  feeble,  narrow-minded  arguments,  and  deny 
its  imperishable  nature,  dares  to  spread  his  poisonous  and  cor- 
roding doctrines  of  despair  through  the  world,  draining  exist- 
ence of  all  its  brightness,  and  striving  to  erect  barriers  of 
distrust  between  the  creature  and  the  Creator.  No  sin  can 
be  greater  than  this;  for  it  is  impossible  to  estimate  the 
measure  of  evil  that  may  thus  be  brought  into  otherwise 
innocent  and  happy  lives.  The  attitude  of  devotion  and  faith 
is  natural  to  Humanity,  while  nothing  can  be  more  unnatural 
and  disastrous  to  civilization,  morality  and  law,  than  delib- 
erate and  determined  Atheism. — Author.] 

LETTEE  IV. 

"Dear  Madam, 

"I  dare  say  you  have  had  many  letters,  but  I  must  add 
mine  to  the  number  to  thank  you  for  your  book,  the  'Eo- 
mance  of  Two  Worlds.'  I  am  deeply  interested  in  the  won- 
derful force  we  possess,  all  in  a  greater  or  lesser  degree — call 
it  influence,  electricity,  or  what  you  will.  I  have  thought 
much  on  Theosophy  and  Psychical  Eesearch — but  what  struck 
mo  in  3'our  book  was  the  glorious  selflessness  inculcated  and 
the  perfect  Majesty  of  the  Divinity  clear  throughout — no 
sweeping  away  of  the  Crucified  One.  I  felt  a  better  woman 
for  the  reading  of  it  twice;  and  I  know  others,  too,  who 
are  higher  and  better  women  for  such  noble  thoughts  and 
teaching.  .  .  .  People  for  the  most  part  dream  away  their 
lives;  one  meets  so  few  who  really  believe  in  electrical  a>ffinity, 


APPENDIX.  247 

and  I  have  felt  it  so  often  and  for  so  long.  Forgive  my 
troubling  you  with  this  letter,  but  I  am  grateful  for  your 
labor  of  love  towards  raising  men  and  women. 

"Sincerely  yours, 

"K.  H." 

LETTER  V. 

"I  should  like  to  know  if  Marie  Corelli  honestly  believe? 
the  theory  which  she  enunciates  in  her  book,  'The  Romance 
of  Two  Worlds':  and  also  if  she  has  any  proof  on  which  to 
found  that  same  theory? — if  so,  the  authoress  will  greatly 
oljligo  an  earnest  seeker  after  Truth  if  she  will  give  the  in- 
formation sought  to  A.  S." 

[I  sent  a  brief  affirmative  answer  to  the  above  note;  the 
"proof"  of  the  theories  set  forth  in  the  "Romance"  is,  as  I 
bave  already  stated,  easily  to  be  found  in  the  New  Testament. 
But  there  are  those  wbo  do  not  and  will  not  believe  the  Xew 
Testament,  and  for  them  there  are  no  "proofs"  of  any  exist- 
ing spirituality  in  earth  or  heaven.  "Having  ej^es  they  see 
not,  and  hearing  they  do  not  understand." — Author.] 

LETTER  VI. 

"Dear  Madam, 

"I  have  lately  been  reading  with  intense  pleasure  your 
'Romance  of  Two  Worlds,'  and  I  must  crave  your  forbearance 
towards  me  when  I  tell  you  that  it  has  filled  me  with  envy 
and  wonder.  I  feel  sure  that  many  people  must  have  plied 
you  with  questions  on  the  subject  already,  but  I  am  certain 
that  you  are  too  earnest  and  too  sympathetic  to  feel  bored 
by  what  is  in  no  sense  idle  curiosity,  but  rather  a  deep  and 
genuine  longing  to  know  the  truth.  ...  To  some  minds  it 
would  prove  such  a  comfort  and  such  a  relief  to  have  their 
vague  longings  and  beliefs  confirmed  and  made  tangible, 
and,  as  you  know,  at  the  present  day  so-called  Religion, 
which  is  often  a  mere  mixture  of  dogma  and  superstition, 
is  scarcely  sufficient  to  do  this.  ...  I  might  say  a  great  deal 
more  and  weary  your  patience,  which  has  already  been  tried, 
I  fear.  But  may  I  venture  to  hope  that  you  have  some  words 
of  comfort  and  assurance  out  of  your  own  experience  to  give 


248  APPENDIX. 

me?  With,  your  expressed  belief  in  the  good  influence  which 
each  may  exert  over  the  other,  not  to  speak  of  a  higher  and 
holier  incentive  in  the  example  of  One  (in  whom  you  also 
believe)  who  bids  us  for  His  sake  to  'Bear  one  another's  bur- 
dens/ you  cannot,  I  think,  turn  away  in  impatience  from  the 
seeking  of  a  very  earnest  soul.  Yours  sincerely, 

"B.  D." 

[I  have  received  about  fifty  letters  written  in  precisely  the 
same  tone  as  the  above — all  more  or  less  complaining  of  the 
insufficiency  of  "so-called  Keligion,  which  is  often  a  mere 
mixture  of  dogma  and  superstition" — and  I  ask — What  are 
the  preachers  of  Christ's  clear  message  about  that  there  should 
be  such  plaintively  eager  anxious  souls  as  these,  who  are  evi- 
dently ready  and  willing  to  live  noble  lives  if  helped  and 
encouraged  ever  so  little?  Shame  on  those  men  who  pre- 
sume to  take  up  the  high  vocation  of  the  priesthood  for  the 
sake  of  self-love,  self-interest,  worldly  advancement,  money 
or  position!  These  things  are  not  among  Christ's  teachings. 
If  there  are  members  of  the  clergy  who  can  neither  plant 
faith,  nor  consolation,  nor  proper  comprehension  of  God's 
infinite  Beauty  and  Goodness  in  the  hearts  of  their  hearers, 
I  say  that  their  continuance  in  such  sacred  office  is  an  offense 
to  the  Master  whom  they  profess  to  serve.  "It  must  needs 
be  that  offenses  come,  but  woe  to  the  man  by  whom  the 
offense  cometh!"  To  such  may  be  addressed  the  words,  "Hyp- 
ocrites! for  ye  shut  up  the  kingdom  of  heaven  against  men; 
ye  neither  go  in  yourselves,  neither  suffer  ye  them  that  are 
entering  to  go  in." — Author.] 

LETTER  VII. 

"Madam, 

"I  hope  you  will  not  think  it  great  presumption  my 
writing  to  you.  My  excuse  mur-t  be  that  I  so  much  want  to 
believe  in  the  great  Spirit  that  'makes  for  righteousness,'  and 
I  cannot!  Your  book  puts  it  all  so  clearly  that  if  I  can  only 
know  it  to  be  a 'true  experience  of  your  own,  it  will  go  a 
long  way  in  dispersing  the  fog  that  modern  writings  sur- 
round one  with.  .  .  . 

"Apologizing  for  troubling  you,  I  am  faithfully  yours, 

"an.  E," 


APPENDIX.  249 

LETTEK  VIII. 
"Madam, 

"I  trust  you  will  pardon  the  liberty  I  take  in  writing 
to  you.  My  excuse  must  be  the  very  deep  interest  your  book, 
'A  Eomance  of  Two  Worlds/  has  excited  in  me.  I,  of  course, 
understand  that  the  story  itself  is  a  romance,  but  in  reading 
it  carefully  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  a  book  written  with  a 
purpose.  .  .  .  The  Electric  Creed  respecting  Religion  seems 
to  explain  so  much  in  Scripture  which  has  always  seemed  to 
me  impossible  to  accept  blindly  without  explanation  of 
any  kind;  and  the  theory  that  Christ  came  to  die  and  to 
suffer  for  us  as  an  Example  and  a  means  of  communication 
with  God,  and  not  as  a  Sacrifice,  clears  up  a  point  which  has 
always  been  to  me  personally  a  stumbling-block.  I  cannot 
say  how  grateful  I  shall  be  if  you  can  tell  me  any  means  of 
studying  this  subject  further;  and  trusting  you  will  excuse 
me  for  troubling  you,  I  am.  Madam,  Yours  truly, 

"H.  B." 

[Once  more  I  may  repeat  that  the  idea  of  a  sacrifice  to 
appease  God's  anger>  is  purely  Jewish,  and  has  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  Christianity  according  to  Christ.  He  Himself 
says,  "I  am  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life;  no  man 
Cometh  to  the  Father  but  by  Me."  Surely  these  words  are 
plain  enough,  and  point  unmistakably  to  a  means  of  com- 
munication through  Christ  between  the  Creator  and  this 
world.  Nowhere  does  the  Divine  Master  say  that  God  is 
so  furiously  angry  that  He  must  have  the  bleeding  body  of 
His  own  messenger,  Christ,  hung  up  before  Him  as  a  human 
sacrifice,  as  though  He  could  only  be  pacified  by  the  scent 
of  blood!  Horrible  and  profane  idea!  and  one  utterly  at 
variance  with  the  tenderness  and  goodness  of  "Our  Father" 
as  pictured  by  Christ  in  these  gentle  words — "Fear  not,  little 
flock;  it  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  you  the 
Kingdom."  Whereas  that  Christ  should  come  to  draw  us 
closer  to  God  by  the  strong  force  of  His  own  Di^dnity,  and  by 
His  Resurrection  prove  to  us  the  reality  of  the  next  life,  is  not 
at  all  a  strange  or  ungodlike  mission,"  and  ought  to  make  us 
unrlerstand  more  surely  than  ever  how  infinitely  pitying  and 
forbearing  is  the  All-Loving  One,  that  He  should,  as  it  "were, 
with  such  extreme  affection  show  us  a  way  by  which  to  travel 


250  APPENDIX. 

through  darkness  unto  light.  To  those  who  cannot  see  this 
perfection  of  goodness  depicted  in  Christ's  own  words,  I 
would  say  in  the  terse  Oriental  maxim: 

"Diving,  and  finding  no  pearls  in  the  sea, 
Blame  not  the  ocean,  the  fault  is  in  thee." 

Author.] 

LETTER  IX. 

"Dear  Madam, 

"I  have  lately  been  reading  your  remarkable  book,  'A 
Romance  of  Two  Worlds,'  and  I  feel. that  I  must  write  to 
you  about  it.  I  have  never  viewed  Christianity  in  the  broadly 
transfigured  light  you  throw  upon  it,  and  I  have  since  been 
studying  carefully  the  four  Gospels  and  comparing  them  with 
the  theories  in  your  book.  The  result  has  been  a  complete  and 
liappy  change  in  my  ideas  of  religion,  and  I  feel  now  as  if  I 
had,  like  a  leper  of  old,  touched  the  robe  of  Christ  and  been 
healed  of  a  long-standing  infirmity.  Will  you  permit  me 
to  ask  if  you  have  evolved  this  new  and  beneficent  lustre 
from  the  Gospel  yourself?  or  whether  some  experienced  stu- 
dent in  mystic  matters  has  been  your  instructor?  I  hear 
from  persons  who  have  seen  you  that  you  are  quite  young, 
and  I  cannot  understand  how  one  of  your  sex  and  age  seems 
able  so  easily  to  throw  light  on  what  to  many  has  been,  and 
is  still,  impenetrable  darkness.  I  have  been  a  preacher  for 
some  years,  and  I  thought  the  Testament  was  old  and  familiar 
to  me;  but  you  have  made  it  a  new  and  marvelous  book  full 
of  most  precious  meanings,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  able  to  impart 
to  those  whom  it  is  my  duty  to  instruct,  something  of  the 
great  consolation  and  hope  your  writing  has  filled  me  with. 

"Believe  me, 

"Gratefully  vours, 

"T.  M." 

LETTER  X. 
"Madam, 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  ground  you  have  for  the  found- 
ation of  the  religious  theory  contained  in  your  book,  'A  Ro- 
mance of  Two  Worlds'?  Is  it  a  part  of  your  own  belief?  I 
am  most  anxious  to  know  this,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  be 
kind  enough  to  answer  me.  Till  I  read  your  book  I  thought 
myself  an  Agnostic,  but  now  I  am  not  quite  sure  of  this. 


APPENDIX.  251 

I  do  not  believe  in  the  Deity  as  depicted  by  the  Churches. 
I  cannot.  Over  and  over  again  I  have  asked  myself — If  there 
is  a  God,  why  should  He  be  angry?  It  would  surely  be  easy 
for  Him  to  destroy  this  world  entirely  as  one  would  blow 
away  an  offending  speck  of  dust,  and  it  would  be  much 
better  and  braver  for  Him  to  do  this  than  to  torture  His 
creation.  For  I  call  life  a  torture  and  certainly  a  iiseless 
and  cruel  torture  if  it  is  to  end  in  annihilation.  I  know  I 
seem  to  be  blasphemous  in  these  remarks,  yet  if  you  only  knew 
what  I  suffer  sometimes!  I  desire,  I  long  to  believe.  You 
seem  so  certain  of  your  Creed — a  Creed  so  noble,  reasonable 
and  humane — the  God  you  depict  so  worthy  of  the  adoration 
of  a  Universe.  I  beg  of  you  to  tell  me — do  you  feel  sure 
of  this  beneficent  all-pervading  Love  concerning  which  you 
write  so  eloquently?  I  do  not  wish  to  seem  an  intruder  on 
your  most  secret  thought.  I  want  to  believe  that  you  believe 
— and  if  I  felt  this,  the  tenor  of  my  whole  life  might  change. 
Help  me  if  you  can — I  stand  in  real  need  of  help.  You 
may  judge  I  am  very  deeply  in  earnest,  or  I  should  not  have 
written  to  you.    Yours  faithfully,  A.  W.  L." 


[Of  such  letters  as  these  I  have  received  enough  to  make 
a  volume  of  themselves;  but  I  think  the  ten  I  have  selected 
are  sufficient  to  show  how  ardent  and  inextinguishable  is  the 
desire,  or  straining  upward,  like  a  flower  to  the  light,  of  the 
human  Soul  for  those  divine  things  which  nourish  it.  Scarcely 
a  day  passes  without  my  receiving  more  of  these  earnest  and 
often  pathetic  appeals  for  a  little  help,  a  little  comfort,  a  little 
guidance,  enough  to  make  one's  heart  ache  at  the  thought 
of  so  much  doubt  and  desolation  looming  cloudlike  over  tlie 
troubled  minds  of  manj'  who  would  otherwise  lead  not  only 
happy  but  noble  and  useful  lives.  When  will  tbe  preachers 
learn  to  preach  Christ  simply — Christ  without  human  dogmas 
or  differences?  When  shall  we  be  able  to  enter  a  building  set 
apart  for  sacred  worship — a  building  of  finest  architectural 
beauty,  "glorious  without  and  within,"  like  the  "King's 
Daughter"  of  David's  psalm — glorious  with  light,  music, 
flowers,  and  art  of  the  noblest  kind  (for  Art  is  God's  own 
inspiration  to  men,  and  through  it  He  should  be  serv^ed), 
there  to  hear  the  pure,  unselfish  doctrine  of  Christ  as  ITc 


252  APPENDIX. 

Himself  preacliecl  it?  For  such  a  temple,  tlie  time  has  surely 
come — a  nook  sacred  to  God,  and  untainted  by  the  breath 
of  Mammon,  where  wo  could  adore  our  Creator  "in  spirit 
and  in  truth."  The  evils  of  nineteenth-century  cynicism  and 
general  flippancy  of  thought — great  evils  as  they  are  and  sure 
prognostications  of  worse  evils  to  come — cannot  altogether 
crush  out  the  Divine  flame  burning  in  the  "few"  that  are 
*'chosen,"  though  these  few  are  counted  as  fools  and  dreamers. 
Yet  they  shall  be  proved  wise  and  watchful  ere  long.  The 
signs  of  the  times  are  those  that  indicate  an  approaching 
great  upheaval  and  change  in  human  destinies.  This  planet 
we  call  ours  is  in  some  respects  like  ourselves:  it  was  born; 
it  has  had  its  infancy,  its  youth,  its  full  prime;  and  now  its 
age  has  set  in,  and  with  age  the  first  beginnings  of  decay. 
Absorbed  once  more  into  the  Creative  Circle  it  must  be; 
and  when  again  thrown  forth  among  its  companion-stars, 
our  race  will  no  more  inhabit  it.  We  shall  have  had  our  day 
— our  little  chance — we  shall  have  lost  or  won.  Christ  said, 
"This  generation  shall  not  pass  away  till  all  My  words  be 
fulfilled,"  the  word  "generation"  thus  used  meaning  simply 
the  human  race.  We  put  a  very  narrow  limit  to  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  Savior's  utterance  when  we  imagine  that  the 
generation  He  alluded  to  implied  merely  the  people  living  in 
His  own  day.  In  the  depths  of  His  Divine  wisdom  He  was 
acquainted  with  all  the  secrets  of  the  Past  and  Future;  He 
had  no  doubt  seen  this  very  world  peopled  by  widely  different 
beings  to  ourselves,  and  knew  that  what  we  call  the  human 
race  is  only  a  passing  tribe  permitted  for  a  time  to  sojourn 
here.  What  a  strangely  presumptuous  idea  is  that  which 
pervades  the  minds  of  the  majority  of  persons — namely,  that 
Mankind,  as  we  know  it,  must  be  the  highest  form  of  creation, 
simply  because  it  is  the  highest  form  we  can  see!  How 
absurd  it  is  to  be  so  controlled  by  our  limited  vision,  when 
We  cannot  even  perceive  the  minute  wonders  that  a  butterfly 
beholds,  or  pierce  the  sunlit  air  with  anything  like  the  facility 
possessed  by  the  undazzled  eyes  of  an  upward-soaring  bird! 
Nay,  we  cannot  examine  the  wing  of  a  common  house-fly 
without  the  aid  of  a  microscope — to  observe  the  facial  expres- 
sion of  our  own  actors  on  the  stage  we  look  through  opera- 
glasses — to  form  any  idea  of  the  wonders  of  the  stars  we 
construct  telescopes  to  assist  our  feeble  and  easily  deluded 
sight;    and  yet — yet  we  continue  to  parcel  out  the  infinite 


APPENDIX.  253 

gradations  of  creative  Force  and  Beauty  entirely  to  suit  our 
own  private  opinions,  and  conclude  that  we  are  the  final 
triumph  of  the  Divine  Artist's  Supreme  Intelligence!  Alas! 
in  very  truth  we  are  a  sorry  spectacle  both  to  our  soberly 
thinking  selves  and  the  Higher  Powers,  invited,  as  it  were, 
to  spend  our  life's  brief  day  in  one  of  God's  gardens  as  His 
friends  and  guests,  who  certainly  are  not  expected  to  abuse 
their  Host's  hospitality,  and,  ignoring  Him,  call  themselves 
the  owners  and  masters  of  the  ground!  For  we  are  but  wan- 
derers beneath  the  sun;  a  "generation"  which  must  most 
surely  and  rapidly  "pass  away"  to  make  room  for  another; 
and  as  the  work  of  the  Universe  is  always  progressive,  that 
other  will  be  of  nobler  capacity  and  larger  accomplishment. 
So  while  we  are  here,  let  us  think  earnestly  of  the  few  brief 
chances  remaining  to  us — they  grow  fewer  every  hour.  On 
one  side  is  the  endless,  glorious  heritage  of  the  purely  aspiring, 
Immortal  Spirit;  on  the  other  the  fleeting  Mirage  of  this  our 
present  Existence;  and.  midway  between  the  two,  the  swing- 
ing pendulum  of  Human  Will,  which  decides  our  fate.  God 
does  not  choose  for  us,  or  compel  our  love — we  are  free  to 
fashion  out  our  own  futures;  but  in  making  our  final  choice 
we  cannot  afford  to  waste  one  moment  of  our  precious,  unre- 
turning  time.] 

Marie  Corelli. 


(.^ 


U<' 


^^ 


jm    i^^ 


O    MlSiljAINn  3H1    O. 


o  40  Mvam  am  o 


Ib>— >— adb 


JNlvESSItY   e 


-ORNIA    o 


»  SANTA  BARBABA  » 


m 


«  SANTA  BARBARA  ^  , 


O  V8V9W9  ViNVS  « 


mi 


9 


B   UiSiOAlNa  3H1   9 


i-^ 


-aSY  0»  o 


THE  iiBRAJEt  OF  o 
I 

e 
2 


1 

as 

s 

8 

5ft 

» 

\ 

AUSHSAlNn  IK 
WWWV9WW 

1 

9f 

# 

s 

S 

ft 

1 

I 

* 

^ 

i 

< 

-^ 

-•i 

1 

% 

> 

L 

e  VWStlVfi  V1NV9  o 


9 


3K 


,0   AllS)i3AINn  3»U  «. 


r'ORNIA    e 


•  JO  ABVUan  3Hi   o 


1 

a 

I 

i 

i 

i 

^ 

i 

o    TH6  UNIVERSirf    o 


*o    OF  CAUFORNIA    e 


(^^^ 


af^ 


•    VIN80JI1V3  iO    ® 


\ 


o  IMC  USMftV  Of   » 


/ 


o  or  CAUfORNIA   e 


—TT    *■    W«k  [ :« 


s 


3fT 


3 


!F^ 


yri!5 


3  1205  02042  4287 


■<tun  one    -■ 

ninS^.^,^S9,?^.AL  LIBRARY  FACIU^ 

A  A       ''ooTTo?  446 


\ 


W 


^ 


§3^ 


/ 


*  10  ABwaan  3mi  *^ 


«  TNC  UBRAAV  OV  o 


•    VINUOdlltfd  30   « 


TUiVS  • 


& 


\ 


a  WE  UBItARV  OF  e 


loftd 


e  THC  UNIVERSnT   o 


U:£ 


o  Of  omronwA  « 


